


Bitter Revelations

by dontwaitupxx



Series: Treacherous Intentions [2]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Anger Management, Blood and Violence, Childhood Trauma, Coping Mechanisms, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cults, Explicit Language, Flashbacks, Gen, Grave Disinterment, Impa is still the definition of a terrifying Sheikah, Impa still takes no bullshit, Implied/Referenced Torture, Intense Situations, Jarring Memories, Loss of Identity, Loss of Parents, Memory Loss, Morally Grey Character, Not quite Zelink, Obsessive thoughts, Paranoia, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, References to Depression, Retelling, Set during the events of Breath of the Wild, Suicidal Thoughts, Unique Memory Sequences, Villain Protagonist, Yiga!Link, alternative universe, follows main quest, memory recovery, obsessive pining, use of alcohol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:53:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 44,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25640905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontwaitupxx/pseuds/dontwaitupxx
Summary: His memories had left him, but his emotions had not: and what he felt now was a deep, seething anger. With every turn brought unbidden memories to the surface, and it was all he could do to push those sentiments far, far down. Who was he, and why did he hear a voice beckoning him to the castle? The voice had said that he was the light, but all he wanted was to fill the world with darkness.
Series: Treacherous Intentions [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1744312
Comments: 63
Kudos: 85





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is the direct sequel to [Treacherous Intentions](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22068349/chapters/52665712), my Yiga!Link AU, and is the second installment in the series. It takes place immediately following Link's one hundred year slumber, and follows through the events of The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild. This story has been created with unique memory sequences that tie back to the events in Treacherous Intentions and earlier in Link's life. None of the original memories will be touched upon. It is highly recommended to read Treacherous Intentions prior to diving into this story. With that in mind, you are also welcome to continue onwards with this story either way!

In the shroud of darkness came a voice. The voice was golden, shining deep into the far corners of his mind – corners which had been dark for so, so long. How long, you may ask? It's difficult to say. The voice beckoned him forward, and as he chased the sweet yellow golden hue, the voice became clearer. It was a woman's voice, and though he did not recognize it, her tones felt calming – familiar – relieving.

And at the same time – insufferable.

He opened his eyes.

Soothing sunlight was replaced by blinding blues – it occurred to him that she had been saying 'open your eyes', and against his will, he had obeyed. The blinding blues dissolved into something more specific – and that something specific was so foreign to him that he had no word for what he was looking at.

She beckoned him again and he blinked, as his senses slowly crawled back to him. The first thing he noticed after his vision sharpened and loosened with his weary eyes was the air – stale against his lungs, as they heaved in a breath. His lungs expanded, stretching against his chest – like it was a task long forgotten.

He thought it better to close his eyes. Even the small act of opening his eyes and taking a breath was draining. Perhaps drifting back to the pleasant shroud of darkness would be more peaceful – less agonizing.

Away from the incessant voice on the wind.

"Wake up, Link."

Link. That was what she had called him, and somehow, he knew it to be correct and true. It stirred up something from deep within him – though the tangible memories that came with one's identity were blurred, with only the emotions present to back it up. Try as he may, but they were just beyond reach – just beyond his grasp and perfectly languid, dissolving through his fingertips.

Though he recalled nothing at the mention of his name – the emotions connected to it were prideful – boastful – powerful.

At the words she spoke in the tones of her voice – he felt hatred – disdain – bitter.

Who was she? And how did she know his name?

More pressing, however: why hadn't he known _his_ name?

Why could he recall nothing at all?

Indeed, as he fought for a glimpse of a memory – of something substantial he could conjure to resolve his identity, he came up short. There, among sweet golden and bitter blues, he was – devoid of everything except his name and the seething anger bubbling from within him.

Then, he was assaulted by new sensations.

In the absence of the woman's voice was the sound of rushing water – disappearing somewhere just beneath him. Around him, the water he was encased in began to drain, and he was aware of every droplet dripping from his skin, cognizant of how the air felt cool against it, and startled at how it dried in mere seconds – as though this were not simply water, but something else entirely.

His eyes drifted, noting the dust particles still lingering around above his head in the stale air. They were of a greenish tint, and smelled of something ancient – something long forgotten, but underscored with the scent of burnt skin and pouring rain.

He lifted himself up onto his arms, noting that with each muscle moved, he was met with a burning strain that could only be accompanied by extreme disuse. He looked down at his chest, taking in a sharp breath. This breath was easier than the last, but was protested greatly still by his weary lungs. His chest, he noted, was littered with scars, ranging from small and light to long and deep. On some, the skin felt loose and thin – on others, it was tight and thick, protruding against the rest of it. Yet despite this, he felt no pain. He swung his legs over the bed, and was met with cool floor against warm feet.

Where was he? What had happened?

He looked around the room, expecting to find the woman who had woken him up, and to demand answers. Yet, he found that within the dark, dusty room he was… incredibly alone. Equally as pressing, he realized, there was no clear exit out. Though it was dark, he could see divine constellations littering the walls – their cool, orange light pulsating softly across the room, almost imperceptible.

And through the dull orange – not quite the wonderful golden yellow he had seen before – he noticed something blue penetrating through the darkness. It was a pedestal – softly glowing and pulsing through the cavern.

More out of curiosity than anything, Link approached it.

The pedestal flashed when approached. It rose, spinning a quarter of a circle around before ejecting a small, rectangular object with a glowing blue eye carved onto the back.

"That is a Sheikah Slate," the voice whispered again. Link darted his head around, trying to find the source of the voice, but came up short. Indeed, it sounded as though the voice was coming from _within_ him.

"Take it," the voice insisted, "It will help guide you after your long slumber."

"Who are you?" Link asked out loud, noticing how his voice felt rough, like sandpaper against his throat. She had mentioned he had been in a long slumber. Just how long had he been asleep?

The voice answered him not, though through the silence, Link could feel the weight of her listening. She certainly knew him, he reasoned, else she would not have reached out to him.

When it became clear that she was not going to answer, his eyes drifted back to the slate in front of him. The… Sheikah Slate, she had called it. Though he had never seen this device before, there was something familiar about it. He lifted the slate from its pedestal and held it out in his hands before him. Despite its familiarity, it felt foreign in his hands. The screen lit up once again, the glowing blue eye staring at him menacingly and benevolently.

Like he was being watched.

Before he could ponder the implications of this further, the pedestal spun once again and settled, and with it, Link saw a doorway he had not noticed before opening just beyond it, a cloud of dust erupting in its wake.

Well, it wasn't like he had anywhere else he could go.

He walked into the next chamber, noticing this time that instead of dull orange constellations dotting the walls, dim blue lanterns lit the room in its low light. Through this, Link could make out two chests sitting just beyond the doorway.

Opening the first one, he found a pair threadbare trousers and a pair of old shoes, and it was only then that he realized with mortifying clarity that he was completely naked.

Though there was no one around to see – as far as he could tell – the woman's voice had spoken to him, and must have seen him approach the pedestal. Not to mention, the eye of the Sheikah Slate unnerved him – so much to the point that he immediately set it down beside the chest with the eye facing down, as he trudged on the well worn pants, taking care not to rip additional holes into them.

The second chest held an old shirt – nothing special, he had to admit – but at least now he was properly clothed.

Though in retrospect, perhaps he shouldn't have been so worried about disembodied voices catching a glimpse at him fully exposed.

There was still the question of where he was and why he was here.

He attached the Sheikah Slate to his belt, and walked further into the chamber, noticing that though this room was less stuffy than the previous, dust motes still hung in the air like the stars those constellations depicted.

At the end of the room was another sealed door – he noticed it now where he hadn't before. Like the previous chamber too, this door had a pedestal placed next to it as well. However, this pedestal did not have a Sheikah Slate lodged into it. Instead, this one had that same glowing blue eye staring blankly into the cavern.

He was constantly being watched, he realized. If it had just been one or two of those eyes, he could have chalked it up as being coincidental. However, this was the third one he had seen – or was it the fourth?

The room was suddenly suffocating. He needed to get out of there.

"Hold the Sheikah Slate up to the pedestal," the voice returned, whispering in his ears, all around, from above, from below, _everywhere,_ "That will show you the way."

"Who are you?" He asked again, though was only met with the echoing sounds of his own voice throughout the ancient cavern.

There was no way to escape it, he realized, and though the voice seemed benevolent at first, it was also content to leave his questions unanswered. Again, left with little choice in the matter, he lifted the Sheikah Slate from his hip, its material feeling ancient and foreign and startlingly familiar once again, before he pressed the eye of the slate to the eye of the pedestal.

The pedestal flashed blue, much like the previous one had, but this time, words began to materialize from it: _authenticating._

_Sheikah Slate confirmed._

Then, from the door before him, another blue eye began to glow – the largest of them all. These eyes – these Sheikah eyes – they were everywhere, etched into the very architecture of this chamber. Some were hidden, some were quite obvious, but in that moment, Link realized something about them – though mundane as they were, they were important, somehow.

And he couldn't help but despise them.

The door began to lift from the ground, and instantly, sweet golden yellow light burst into chamber. It was that same wonderful yellow he had seen before. It called and beckoned him forward, and Link felt the sensation of _warmth_ across his skin. He had been cold before – why hadn't he realized that?

The lovely sweet delicious gold was blinding, and Link shielded his eyes. But even then, he felt compelled to follow it – felt compelled to dive deep into its swirling pools.

"Link…" the incessant voice spoke again, content to leave their conversation one-sided, "You are the light – our light – that must shine upon Hyrule once again."

That made little sense – the light was right in front of him, dilating his eyes and threatening to burn him. Indeed, even as he felt beckoned by the sweet golden rays, he felt pain; he felt agony at the notion of stepping further into the blinding light.

"Now go…" and he went, his legs being pushed forward by a will not his own. He was sent stumbling through the tunnel – towards the light – towards the pain and the unknown. He was sent careening through shallow waters, ruining his already disintegrating shoes, and splashing it up his calves to the ends of his pant legs. Still, though, he ran – dusty air being sucked deep into sore, unused lungs. He leaped, lurching up a short rocky landing, before he was met with stairs.

And as he emerged from the cave, he was met with greens and blues and browns and reds and _sweet wonderful yellows._ The smell of pine hit his nose, along with something else, delicate and soft. It smelled achingly familiar, like a scent long forgotten and nostalgic. Yet still, it conjured nothing within him, and he was left with no memories to accompany the sensation. His legs pushed him forward, his muscles protesting from severe lack of use, but he couldn't stop – _he wouldn't stop._

Then, he breached the top of the hill, and laid witness to a kingdom amongst the wild.

To the east, that wonderful blinding yellow came from the sun, just peaking over the horizon in the dawn. To the left of it was a monstrous volcano, clearly active, with the spikes of its cliffs penetrating the dewy morning sky.

And just in front of him, off in the distance, was a castle, with lovely cherry blossoms looming just beyond it.

It was a stunning, stark contrast from the stuffy cave he had been in. Across the fields, the dewy fog of morning was fading – evaporating in the sun's morning glow. Here, the wind caressed and tickled his arms, and he felt acutely aware of every chirp of a bird, of the grass scratching his ankles.

Then: the snap of a twig, and movement in the corner of his eye.

He wasn't alone.

His head snapped towards the right, looking down from the hill. There, just before a magnificent temple, he saw an old man staring back up at him. They locked eyes for a moment – two – three – before the man smiled and turned around, walking with slow, careful steps back to his campfire in the shadow of the temple.

Perhaps that old man could make himself useful, and give him some answers.

Link raced down the hillside, noting that, despite the Old Man taking residence there, it seemed that the land sprawled out before him was relatively untouched. Although the distance going downhill wasn't far at all, Link was still out of breath as he reached the bottom of the hill, where the Old Man sat.

The Old Man stared up at him, his eyes squinting in caution? – recognition? – hatred? He couldn't tell.

In the end, none of that really mattered, now did it?

As it was, the Old Man spoke first; his face morphing into something more jovial, "Oho ho! Well met, stranger! It's rather unusual to see another soul in these parts."

"Who are you?" Link asked, hoping that, unlike the disembodied voice from up in the cave, this wrinkly man would actually answer him.

"Me," the Old Man smiled, "I'll spare you my life story. I'm just an old fool who has lived here, alone, for quite some time now. What brings a bright-eyed young man like you to a place like this?"

"I was hoping you would be able to answer that," Link muttered, looking off towards the temple, "Where are we?"

"Answering a question with a question. That is fair enough – it's a response I would have gotten from someone who is quite dear to me. As I cannot imagine our meeting to be a simple coincidence… I shall tell you. This is the Great Plateau," he whispered, his eyes grazing out towards the grasslands, "According to legend, this is the birthplace of the entire kingdom of Hyrule."

The Old Man stood up on slow, creaking legs, using his walking stick for support. He pointed off towards the magnificent temple, "That temple there… long ago… it was the site of many sacred ceremonies. Ever since the decline of the kingdom one hundred years ago, it has sat abandoned, in a state of decay," he turned back towards Link, his lips formed together in a thin line, "Yet another forgotten entity – a mere ghost of its former self…" he lowered himself back down next to the fire, "I shall be here for some time. Please let me know if I may be of service."

Link nodded, before turning back towards the temple. It seemed to call to him in a way, and he felt the wind shift around him, beckoning him forward. He took a step towards the temple, but then stopped, a sharp pang in his gut.

He was hungry, he realized. How could he have forgotten what hunger felt like?

The burning rage that had simmered upon breaching the cave boiled again.

He stepped back towards the camp, looking around for something he could forage. There, lying almost forgotten at the base of the campfire, was a roasted apple. Well, the bitter Old Man had said to let him know how he could be of service, so he certainly wouldn't mind if he helped himself.

He reached down and plucked the roasted apple from the ground.

"I beg your pardon!" The Old Man stood up, "I do believe that is my baked apple! You can't just go around taking whatever you please!"

_The voice echoes in his head – and suddenly it is higher in pitch, less gravelly. He opens his eyes to find him not on the Great Plateau but just off to the side of a road, by a sprawling field. The old man looks the same – yet different – his face morphing into something grotesque and horrific._

_And the pang in his stomach is just as strong – and entirely more urgent._

" _Beat it, kid," the old man hisses, "I ain't got enough for the two of us."_

_It is either kill or be killed. If the elements do not get him first, his empty stomach will._

Link itched for a knife. He could see the old man in his mind's eye, with his eyes gazing upwards, surrounded by a pool of his own blood. He couldn't exactly get in the way if he were _dead._

He had no weapons, and the nearest thing he could possibly use was an old torch just behind the Old Man. His breath shortened, and his heart rate sped up. This crippled old man was content to just let him starve.

With no other options, and with his vision turning red, Link tackled the Old Man to the ground.

His hands found their way to the Old Man's neck, tightening beneath the black hood and long, white beard. He saw the man's eyes go wide, as Link pressed down with as much force as he could muster. He would strangle this man until he was dead, or at least unconscious. He hadn't a clue who he was, where he was, or why he was there, and the disgruntled Old Man thought it well to let him starve and –

The Old Man shoved Link back in a surge of unanticipated strength, and sent him sprawling back into the grass. He had thought him to be some frail, wrinkly man, but he supposed his black cloak did well to hide his unassuming strength. Looking up, Link saw the Old Man sitting back down by the fire, though even from his distance, he could see an air of caution about him.

"While that wasn't quite what I was expecting," the Old Man shook his head, "It does shed some light onto things. You remembered something, didn't you?"

"I…" Link held his head in his hands, reeling as the world spun around him. He didn't understand – he could feel the cold breeze from the day around him – he could feel the sharp droplets of rain battering against his skin – he could taste the sweet and sour juices from that very same baked apple as he walked away from that old man – rubbing his bloodied knife on his trousers.

Yet _that_ old man was not _this_ Old Man. Here it was sunny and warm, and he was not on a road in an open field. Was that, as the Old Man had suggested, a memory from before?

Yet… he had never told the Old Man that he couldn't remember anything.

How could the Old Man know he had remembered something if he had no prior knowledge that he had forgotten anything?

Link's head snapped up from the ground, "How… how do you know that?"

"Once you get to be my age, you get to know a great many things," the Old Man whispered, his hood casting a long shadow over his face, "In any case, I hadn't expected you to react the way you did – I was just pulling your leg. Please help yourself – an apple and an open flame make for a succulent treat."

Link was silent for a moment, before he nodded, pocketing the apple. His appetite was suddenly quite gone.

He left the Old Man in the shadow of the rocky outcrop and went further down the hill, his destination being the temple looming in the distance. Just beyond the Old Man's camp was an old axe lodged into a tree stump.

And just beyond that – he noticed – was a blade on a small island, lodged deep into a small stone.

There was something about the blade that spoke to him, in a similar way that the temple had when he first saw it. His palms itched and his fingers buzzed – desperate to wrap themselves around the hilt of the blade. The breeze shifted, and he smelled cherry blossoms – though there were none in sight – and something else, delicate and soft.

He needed to get that sword.

With no easier way to make it to that blade, Link jumped into the cool waters of the pond, only resurfacing with a slight panic that perhaps he didn't remember how to swim. Despite this, he found himself treading water easily, and made his way to the small island in the center of the pond.

Link, now drenched to the bone and dripping wet, lifted the rusty broadsword from its pitiful pedestal. It was chipped and broken – the light from the sun couldn't even shine off of it in places. No doubt, in its prime, it was a magnificent sword.

Now, it was just a piece of shit.

Well, it wasn't like Link had anything better to use.

Thus, he tied off the piece of shit to a makeshift baldric and made his way off the island and back to the main path.

He pulled himself out of the water – feeling the soft heat from the sun's rays against his skin, getting warmer as the sun was lifted higher in the sky – before he paused, hearing something soft on the breeze.

Perhaps he was just imagining it?

"Link."

He wasn't.

The woman was back, and this time, her voice held an urgent tone and was almost… annoyed?

It was something they both had in common, it seemed.

"Head for the point marked on the map in your Sheikah Slate."

"Show yourself!" Link yelled out towards the sky, grunting as he shoved his plastered bangs out of his face.

He had come to expect it now that the woman would remain silent to his calls, but it did not escape him that the Old Man just up the hill tilted his head ever so slightly towards him.

Link sighed, reaching down towards the Sheikah Slate…

Well shit.

He had just dived headfirst into the pond – twice! – and now the Sheikah Slate attached to his hip was soaking wet. However, reaching down towards his hip and grabbing it, he found that the slate still functioned perfectly normal – though it did slip a bit in his hands as he fumbled for a grip. There, the screen on the slate lit up, and he was faced with an entirely devoid map. It was not as though there just weren't landmarks notated – it was _completely_ blank, save for a marker for what was called the 'Shrine of Resurrection', and a glowing yellow dot marked in the upper right corner.

He looked off towards the east, his brow furrowing, before it clicked. This 'Shrine of Resurrection'… that was where he had woken up. That was that mysterious cave with those glowing blue eyes… all watching him.

He had no desire to go back to that place.

This voice had requested – no, _demanded_ – that he head for that marker on the map. He saw no reason as to why he should obey her demands, as she had not taken the time to answer his questions.

However… perhaps the point marked on the map would answer his questions.

With a shrug, he tucked the Sheikah Slate back against his hip, and trudged onwards, following the relentless woman's request.

Along the way, Link could not help but notice how much the plateau was in a state of disrepair. As he passed the ruined temple, with a mental note to check it out later, he saw shells of buildings, barely standing along the main road. They were open to the elements – roofs caved in and walls completely dismantled – while vines of ivy and moss inched its way over every exposed brick and panel, as though the wild were reclaiming its once untouched lands.

It was a shame that this country had let the plateau rot.

He came to pause at a strange monument, half overturned along the road leading to the temple. Moss grew along the side of it, and its metal was rusted brown from what looked like years of neglect. Upon inspecting it, it looked like a giant metal spider – with six rusted legs cemented into the mud.

_Guardian._ Though no memories of one surfaced with the word, he stared upon the mechanical defender with the hint of a pang of terror in his gut. He closed his eyes, placing his hand on the eroded metal, and just on the edge of his scent, he smelled burning wood – just on the tip of his tongue, he tasted blood – just beyond the heat of the sun beating down on him and the gentle sway of the wind, he felt cold, clammy, and wet.

And that was all he could feel – all he could remember. Despite this, his heart raced, his breath quickened, the edge of his vision darkened, and he settled to walk away from the Guardian – away from the echo of claws crunching against the cobblestone.

The Old Man had mentioned that the Kingdom of Hyrule had been in a state of decay since its decline a century prior. How great of a decline would it have been for the birthplace of Hyrule to be left in such a state of disrepair? Where were its people? If this were such an important place, wouldn't its people make the plateau a priority?

He was so distracted by all of this, that he nearly didn't hear the warning snort before he ducked, as a crude bat swung over his head.

He rolled out of the way, grasping the sword tied to his back in a swift, practiced motion that he hadn't expected. He stumbled to his feet, facing the threat.

And he was faced with the ugliest creature he had ever seen.

He held the sword in front of him with both hands, accessing the situation as the red, pig-like beast snorted and salivated. The beast moved on uncoordinated feet, stumbling around as though it couldn't find its balance.

_Bokoblin_. The name of the creature came to him instantly, and rather than take a precious moment to wonder how he knew that, he filed that information away for later and sidestepped the beast, using the dumb monster's momentum against it. He slid the edge of his blade up the beast's side from torso to shoulder.

Either the Bokoblin was fairly easy to dispatch, or he was quite adept with the sword. Perhaps it was a little bit of both.

He sheathed the broadsword and moved onwards, following the Sheikah Slate to the point marked on the map just ahead.

As he approached the marker on his map, he noted with disdain that there was a whole lot of nothing in front of him. He expected to maybe see a hut, or a statue, or better yet, see that woman come out so he could demand answers. However, circling the perimeter, he found no such hut, no such statue, and no such woman.

He held up the slate again, furrowing his brow. He was in the right spot. What was he supposed to do? Spin around in a circle three times while tapping his head?

He sighed, pulling himself up onto a rock to sit and try and figure out what he needed to do next.

Then, a flash of orange caught his eye. He looked down, and his eyes widened.

Within a small opening in the rock was an even smaller platform. And just on the platform was a pedestal, just like the one he had retrieved the Sheikah Slate from in the Shrine of Resurrection.

Link hopped down into the crevice, and approached the pedestal. He was getting quite good at this now, he had to admit. See a pedestal – tap the Sheikah Slate.

_Place the Sheikah Slate in the pedestal._

The pedestal illuminated in familiar script, and Link looked around, wondering how the pedestal seemed to know he was there. With no clear answer, Link shrugged, before unhooking the slate from his belt and placing it into the indentation on the pedestal. It sucked the Sheikah Slate in, spinning on its axis one quarter of a circle – much like the pedestal had in the shrine. It clicked into place in a flash of orange.

_Sheikah Tower activated. Please watch for falling rocks._

Rocks?

Before Link could ponder this further, the ground around him began to shake – threatening to dislodge him. Then, in a surge of power, the platform burst free from the ground.

The last thing Link saw before he hit his head was that blue, malicious eye, before everything went black.

* * *

When Link came to, he was met with cloudy skies and deep, endless blue.

He groaned, covering his eyes with his arm as his head throbbed. Memories flooded his mind, from the shrine – to the old man – to the sword – and that voice.

That incessant, horrible, repulsively constant voice.

Perhaps it had all been a dream.

That seemed logical, he reasoned. Beyond finding that rusty sword, he had been nudged by that woman to follow the point on the Sheikah Slate – that otherworldly contraption with that glowing blue eye that seemed to be following him and watching him wherever he went. Yes, certainly this was a dream: for only in his dreams could he conjure up something so asinine – so unrealistic.

And then… _then!_ – the dream was coming back in full now – he had approached a pedestal, much like the one in that damned shrine. It had asked him to watch out for falling rocks, but of course, there were no falling rocks. It was just a dream.

And that had been where his dream had stopped.

He laughed, trying to push away the throbbing pain from his head and moved to stand up. The sun was beating down on his skin, and he noticed as it stretched against his muscles and bones that it was sore and red. Sunburnt, he realized. He must have fallen asleep here. He must have been asleep for a long time.

Then, as he pushed himself to his feet, the world spun around him, and he gripped the pedestal he had fallen asleep next to.

The pedestal... which housed the fucking _Sheikah Slate._

He dared to raise his gaze.

He was up high – higher than he had ever been, or remembered. The platform, which housed the pedestal, was expansive – spreading out further than he had seen when it had been on par with the ground.

Suddenly, the slab of rock above the pedestal – inconspicuous as it had been before – began to glow a soft blue. Link gasped, stumbling backwards as he watched the rock light up with ancient texts and words that glimmered in a sweet cerulean. None of the words made sense. He stared at them, struggling to process them. Had he known these words before? Was this a different language? Or was this his language?

Had he forgotten how to _read?_

He shrugged this off as he remembered from his _not dream_ that the pedestal had lit up with words that he could understand. These words that trailed down the rock before him like little tear drops were different than those words from before. Their structure was different – its language was different.

He felt relieved – but at the same time, more disturbed.

He watched as the words dissolved at the end of the rock, where, _again_ , a light blue eye formed staring at him – watching him. Then, before he could ponder that further, the words fell together and dropped onto the Sheikah Slate in a single drop of condensation, dissolving instantly.

He leaned forward, gingerly easing his head forward to look at the slate, wary of any other damned Sheikah words or wet weird water splashing onto him. The screen of the Sheikah Slate illuminated once again – the map, from before. Only except this time, the map was not blank.

This time, it gave a detailed map of his surroundings.

_Regional map extracted._

The pedestal ejected the Sheikah Slate once again, and Link thought for a moment to just leave it there: forget about it. He thought to just leave the slate and that horrific woman's voice and go off on his own – to figure out exactly who he was and why he was here.

In a huff, he stepped away from the pedestal and the slate, his mind thoroughly made up. But then he paused, as he looked out over the edge of the tower.

He saw what he had come to be known as the Great Plateau sprawled out beneath him. Nearby, he saw a camp of those nasty red Bokoblins vaulting and screeching along to some savage fire dance. Just beyond that camp, he saw that majestic temple from before, withered and crippled against the wild that threatened to engulf it. And up the hill, he gazed upon a cave that was hardly noticeable against the mountain – just a small, inconspicuous break in the mountain wall.

And to the north, Link's gaze was, once again, drawn to the castle.

"Remember…"

That sweet golden delicious yellow began to glow softly from the castle once again, and Link froze, every instinct and need and want and desire urging him forward: towards that wonderful entrancing gold.

"Try… Try to remember…"

He took a few staggered steps towards the edge of the tower closest to the castle. From his vantage point, Link could clearly see what he could not before. This castle, up against a backdrop of whispering blossoms was surrounded on all sides by malicious columns, all pointed inward. The sweet golden lovely sunshine grew brighter, as though it sensed him watching.

"You have been asleep for the past one hundred years."

One hundred years? Link felt the blood drain from his head and fingertips, and felt his vision grow dizzy and hazy at the revelation. He knew he had no reason to take her word for it, and yet he knew it to be correct and true. He had been asleep for one hundred years.

A century.

Shit.

The ground shook beneath him once again, and Link grasped the side of the tower frantically, his fingertips and nails digging into the ancient walls of the tower. He looked up and gasped.

"The beast…" the woman's voice supplied, her voice shaking with a slight waver, "When the beast regains its true power, this world will face its end."

He had thought that the castle had just been shrouded in shadows, but as the shadows swirled and boiled, Link realized that there was more at hand than just mere _shadows._ Deep, dark, magenta magic swirled around the castle – opaque and sinister. And from the darkest parts of the magic came a beast so vicious, so vile and horrific, it made Link shudder and made his blood run cold.

And at the same time, he could not help but gasp in awe.

From the swirling clouds came the beast – its eyes glowing bright and its horns cutting gashes into the crystal blue sky. Then, the beast growled: its mouth unhinging as though it were not wide enough to let loose its anger. It wove around the castle, enveloping each spire in its frantic magic.

Then, for a moment, the beast seemed to lock eyes with him. Its gaze was penetrating, firmly rooting Link where he stood. It was all Link could do to stare back – his eyes wide as he looked into the void.

And then the beast roared.

Link thought for a moment that the beast would break free from the castle – as it thrashed and clawed its way against invisible confines – but then, once again, he was blinded by wonderful yellow.

The yellow cast out the magenta, dissolving its magic and sending the beast back, back, back – until all Link could see was _mere_ shadows.

"Now then…"the woman sounded tired, her voice stretching with each syllable – as though each word in itself was becoming increasingly more difficult, "You must hurry, Link… before it's too late."

Then, as suddenly as it came, the sweet yellow dissolved completely, and Link was left utterly alone once again.

But now…

Now, he was _livid._

What did this woman expect him to do? Was she calling out to him to save her? Was she really so powerless and weak that she called upon a man – who had no recollection beyond an hour ago – to come and save her from a malicious beast?

He was angry – and yet he would be lying if he said he was not still drawn towards that sweet golden light.

There was something about it – something that drew him in to that sweet, sparkling light. Not to mention, there was definitely something missing from the narrative. It was clear that there were key pieces of information that he could not remember. Key pieces that would certainly explain why he felt this compelling need to run towards the light.

Key pieces that would, too, explain why the anger within him still bubbled and roared at the tones of her voice.

There was much he didn't know, he realized, and he needed to find out what that was. Yet, even in his confusion, there were a few things that were clear. His memories had left him, but his emotions had not: and what he felt now was a deep, seething anger. With every turn brought unbidden memories to the surface, and it was all he could do to push those sentiments far, far down. Who was he, and why did he hear a voice beckoning him to the castle? The voice had said that he was the light, but all he wanted was to fill the world with darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody, I am BACK on my bullshit continuing this Yiga!Link AU! In case you somehow missed by preface at the top (or just ignored it), I will say again that this is the SEQUEL to [Treacherous Intentions](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22068349/chapters/52665712)! I highly advise you to read that before you read this, but hey – live your life.
> 
> Also (switches tactics), I would love for you to read Treacherous Intentions before this. It would mean a lot to me!
> 
> Anyways, a couple of housekeeping things before we dive into my uncalled for commentary:
> 
> Updates will be on Saturdays! For those that got super used to my Wednesday updates, go lie down in the shrine of resurrection and forget that fact, because if you wait on Wednesdays you will be sorely disappointed!
> 
> I currently have six chapters written and edited! And while I anticipate weekly updates until the story's conclusion at chapter 20, I will let you know probably a week or two in advance if I have to delay a chapter by a week or so.
> 
> Onto commentary!
> 
> As I wrote him getting out of the Shrine (took me 2,000 words to do that good lord), I got Big Brother vibes from the Sheikah eye. This certain level of paranoia is something that sticks with Link throughout the story, and I'm honestly surprised I haven't read more of paranoid!Link. Drop a link down below of any BotW fics that feature Link running around Hyrule paranoid AF because there's this disembodied voice whispering in his ear, Sheikah eyes staring at him all around, everyone knows who he is except him, I would LOVE TO SEE IT.
> 
> The Great Plateau segment was initially supposed to be one chapter at ~5,000 words, ending with him leaping off into the sunset. As you can see, that didn't happen. I knew it was an ambitious goal, as there's a lot that happens before you get that paraglider. Yet, as we can see, I'm a wordy bitch and the Great Plateau is separated into two chapters.
> 
> In the game, the main plot is (arguably) to 'free the four Divine Beasts' and save da pwincess, while the subplot is to regain Link's memories. Well, in THIS AU retelling, the main plot is the memories and his journey to remember who he is (again, if you haven't read TI, I don't even feel bad about saying this, it's his journey to remember his allegiance to the YIGA CLAN), and the subplot is the Divine Beasts. Therefore, I won't be going into a lot of detail regarding the Four Great Relics. They'll still be there, but like, I'm not gonna walk you through Link making his way to all five terminals. You've already done that in the game. I'm also not going to dive in to the shrines very much either. I may mention them in retrospect, but we'll be here all day if I go through even a couple of the shrines. We're gonna go straight to the action and the heartbreak. Love me some blood and angst.
> 
> Our memory this chapter was alluded to in Chapter 11 of TI, so take a look back at that if you want the context!
> 
> I'm also very much playing into the headcanon (canon?) that when Link wakes up he is SEVERELY weakened. Like, I'm taking get this boy an inhaler, cause he can barely run two feet without wheezing. I also wanted to tap into that feeling of loneliness that one would find themselves in in the world of BotW. That world is massive and everyone is dead. How the hell am I gonna do dialogue in this?
> 
> I mean, you're all here for Link's internal monologue, right? His snarky comments and his ability to make you love and hate him at the same time, right? Okay, good.
> 
> Anyways, drop a comment down below and buckle up, buttercups! Also, if you haven't already, follow me on Tumblr at [dontwaitupxx](https://dontwaitupxx.tumblr.com/)! There, I post brain farts and word vomits and reblog art and shit and it's a good place to be.


	2. Chapter 2

As it was, Link was stuck one hundred feet in the air.

He looked around him, puzzled, as he tried to figure out how to get down. The rocks beneath the now raised tower were jagged – recently broken – and he knew that the fall down would be a painful one, if not immediately ending in his death. He sighed, rubbing his hand along his face.

He had placed the Sheikah Slate in the pedestal, which had caused the tower to rise. Perhaps placing it in the pedestal again would lower the tower.

It was absurd, he had to admit, but in the short hour or so that he had been awake, he had been faced with more things that he couldn't explain: the Sheikah Slate, the Old Man's uncalled for flex of strength, the disembodied voice, and now: towers with minds of their own. He approached the pedestal again, lifting the Sheikah Slate once more from his belt, and placed it firmly back into the pedestal.

And… nothing.

Shit.

Link plucked the slate back from the pedestal with an exasperated sigh. He had every thought to chuck that slate across the plateau – and to watch with great satisfaction as it disappeared from sight; or better yet, watched as it shattered into millions of pieces.

It would sate his anger for the moment, yet he knew rationally would not do anything to help him get down from the tower.

Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw the small gap in the floor.

He hadn't noticed it before, but just beyond the pedestal was a small opening away from the edges. As he looked over the edge, he smiled, a small triumphant win. Beneath the edge of the hole, against the side, was a mesh like material – strong like rope, yet thin like lace.

And just a few feet down was a platform.

He gripped the mesh gingerly, testing its strength before he decided that it would have to be good enough. He took a moment to tighten the slate to his hip, and made sure that his sword wouldn't go tumbling from his back should he make a wrong step. Then, he vaulted his legs over the side and began the trek down.

The way down was relatively straightforward. As Link reached the first platform, he then discovered that the tower was lined with these platforms, snaking down. He reached the surface in no time, and had never felt so happy to be on solid ground once again.

However, that happiness was short lived.

From above him – _above him?_ – came a familiar holler, and Link startled, whipping out his shit sword from his shit baldric. The Old Man soared down from the sky like a fucking _bird_ , and Link had to reassess and pinch himself to confirm that he was not, in fact, dreaming.

But alas: he was not. As the Old Man landed, he quickly folded up his flying contraption and met his gaze, as though him flying down from _who knows where_ was just a regular occurrence.

"My, my," the Old Man whispered, a glimmer in his eye that had not been present before, "It seems that we have quite the enigma here."

"You… where did you come from?" Link sputtered, still trying to piece together the last few moments.

"My cabin," the Old Man said simply, before continuing, "This tower and others like it have erupted across the land, one after another. It's almost as though… a long-dormant power has awoken quite suddenly."

"There's something you're not telling me," Link bit out, "Tell me: what's going on?"

"If you don't mind me asking…" the Old Man carried on, as though Link had not said anything, "Did anything… odd occur while you were atop that tower?"

"Besides the obvious?" Link asked, gesturing towards the now colossal tower. He sighed, "I heard a voice."

"Well now," the Old Man whispered, the top of his lips curling upwards, "A voice, you say? And did you happen to recognize this mysterious voice?"

"It's been the same voice that has been speaking to me since I first woke in the shrine, and won't answer my questions. She won't tell me who she is."

"I see," the Old Man said, and though he did well to try and hide it, Link could see the stark disappointment that shrouded his face, "Well that is unfortunate."

"You know who she is," Link realized, as his eyes widened, "Don't you? Tell me: who is she? What does she want?"

The Old Man turned towards the north, pointing towards the castle, "I assume you caught sight of that atrocity enshrouding the castle. That… is Calamity Ganon. One hundred years ago, that vile entity brought the kingdom of Hyrule to ruin. It appeared suddenly, and destroyed everything in its path. So many innocent lives were lost in its wake. For a century, the very symbol of our kingdom, Hyrule Castle, has managed to contain that evil… but just barely. There it festers: building its strength for the moment it will unleash its blight upon the land once again. It would appear that moment is fast approaching…"

"So you're telling me the voice I'm hearing is this Calamity Ganon?"

At this, the Old Man chuckled, throwing his head back as he laughed, "Oh, I should hope not. No… the voice you hear is most certainly not that beast residing in the castle."

The Old Man turned towards him then, his eyes squinted as the laughter melted off his face into something more serious, "I must ask you, courageous one… do you intend to make your way to the castle?"

As much as he did not desire to go to the castle, Link thought back to that sweet wonderful golden light he had seen atop the tower. It had beckoned him forward, and was so _warm_ and comforting, delicious and desirable. That, and the woman who spoke to him _knew_ who he was and _knew_ he had been asleep for one hundred years. If anyone could answer his questions, it was she.

Link nodded, the contradicting feelings clashing within him, "I do."

"I had a feeling you would say that," the Old Man replied, emitting a small chuckle.

"How do I get there?"

"Here, on this isolated plateau, we are surrounded on all sides by steep cliffs, with no way down," the Old Man said, "If you were to try and jump off, well… not death could be more certain – or more foolish. Of course," the Old Man paused, reaching over his shoulder to pull out his flying contraption, "if you had a paraglider like mine, that would be quite another story."

_Paraglider._ That was what that bird thing was called. It was also the one thing standing between him and finding answers.

"Hand it over," Link demanded, sliding his rusty sword out from his baldric, and taking a threatening step towards the Old Man.

"Oho! Certainly! Why not?" The Old Man laughed, before pocketing the paraglider yet again, "But there is no such thing as a free item in this world, you know. And after your little fight with me up the hill over a roasted apple, I think we both know you won't be getting this glider for free."

Link paused, thinking back to that inhuman surge of strength the Old Man had acquired up upon the hill, before he swallowed his pride, nodding. It seemed the Old Man wanted to continue to play games with him, and as unfortunate as it may be, Link was in no position to negotiate. He sheathed his sword.

"Much better," the Old Man said, "You'll come to find that using force to get what you want will not aid you much in life. Let's see now," he paused, tilting his head, "Lets try a proper transaction: how about I trade this here paraglider for a bit of treasure that slumbers nearby?"

"What kind of treasure am I looking for?"

"Come," the Old Man replied, "Let me show you something."

He began walking towards the east, and Link sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Link wasn't in the mood for the man's riddles and puzzles, but it wasn't as though he had a choice in the matter. Begrudgingly, he followed behind the Old Man towards the top of the small hill, and looked out as the man pointed.

"Do you see that structure over there?" The Old Man asked, "The one with the strange light?"

Link looked onwards and nodded, making a note in his head that connected that same orange glow with the pedestals and constellations. It would seem that everything he had encountered thus far was connected somehow.

"It began glowing at the exact moment those towers rose up from the ground. I would think such a place might house some sort of treasure, wouldn't you?"

"Wait a minute," Link shook his head, "You mean to tell me you don't even know what kind of treasure I'm looking for?"

"I'm sure you'll know it when you see it," the Old Man said, "Whatever it is that may be. This long dormant power has just suddenly awakened. I would bet it stands to reason that no one has been inside these shrines in millennia. The treasure remains untouched: just waiting for a seeker to claim it. Treasure for the paraglider. A fair exchange, I believe."

Link sighed, debating just making a leap off of the Great Plateau to rid him of his misery. However, he nodded, giving the Old Man a firm glare, before making his way towards the structure with the glowing eye.

* * *

As it turned out, the Old Man was a liar and a cheater.

Link had entered the structure, which had lowered him into the ground into this underground shrine. There, he had approached another pedestal – which had given the Sheikah Slate the ability to use _magnesis._ It allowed him to move metal objects – no matter how large or heavy – in a remote fashion with the Sheikah Slate.

Link would have been lying if he said he didn't have fun with it, watching with a boyish glee as he made metal objects levitate in front of him, before he slammed them into the walls with a satisfying crash.

But that was beside the point.

He was there to find this stupid treasure for the stupid Old Man so he could get that stupid paraglider and storm the stupid castle so he could demand answers from the stupid woman.

Needless to say, he hadn't been pleased with the treasure he had discovered.

At the end of the shrine was this dried up shriveled monk, which spoke _at_ him much like the incessant woman did. As a reward for completing the shrine, the monk had given Link his Spirit Orb, as he had called it, and Link had to watch in absolute horror as the Spirit Orb dissolved into his skin and settled within him.

Then, he had exited the shrine, ready to have some words with that foolish Old Man – and as though on cue, that bird-like Old Man flew in from absolutely _no where_ next to him, folding up that paraglider and pocketing it as though he were taunting him.

The Old Man had known about the Spirit Orb – referred to it by name, in fact – and had said that there were three more that he wanted Link to get.

"That wasn't the deal!" Link had argued.

"Oh? Well I suppose I've changed my mind," the Old Man countered back.

Thus, left with no other options, Link had stomped away, making his way towards the tower to search for the other three 'shrines'.

They were relatively easy to spot, he had to admit, but his perception of distance was sorely disabled. He made his way past the closest – making a note to double back for it later – and began making his way up the mountain. He stumbled upon a small log cabin in the woods, and upon delving into his uncensored curiosity, he discovered from a journal in the hut that it belonged to that very same Old Man who had been making his life difficult for the last day, now.

That Old Man seemed to be everywhere, and Link wasn't sure how the Old Man was doing it. He had climbed to the top of the tower – against the suggestion of using the slate's 'warp' feature, whatever that meant – and as he breached the top of the tower, the Old Man was already there, awaiting him with a knowing look on his face. Similarly, as he finished up the second shrine and began making his way to the more treacherous altitudes of Mount Hylia, he found the bitter Old Man standing just at the top of the tallest peak, among a pile of rocks. There, he at least made himself useful and handed Link a warm doublet, before leaving him to ponder how an old, fat man like him could scale a mountain faster than him.

Finally, Link made his way back down the mountain, after gaining two more Spirit Orbs and learning two new abilities for his Sheikah Slate: cryonis and stasis. The first ability created this artificial ice wherever a small pond of water was, and the other froze objects and enemies in place. Link discovered the latter upon using it on a monster camp upon the mountain, and swung relentlessly at the frozen Bokoblin. He grinned, pleased with himself, as the disgusting beast's body soared down the mountainside from the buildup of energy from his sword.

Yes, that ability was quite satisfying.

As he approached the ruined abbey where his map led him, he waltzed in – confident that getting to this shrine was going to be a lot easier to get to than crossing a bridge made of logs or climbing to some of the highest cliffs of Mount Hylia.

He was wrong.

He passed under a broken archway, looking down at the Sheikah Slate's map. The shrine should be just around the corner…

Link felt the hairs on his arm prickle before he heard the sound of rusted metal grinding against itself. He looked up from the Sheikah Slate, and felt his blood run cold as the Guardian before him began to flicker magenta.

This was like the Guardian he had discovered by that temple, except this one was half sunken into the mud.

That, and now, it was _alive_. One beady blue eye locked on him, and Link felt the instinct to _run._

_The crumbling abbey morphs into a well-maintained courtyard – and in that courtyard, Link too, feels the instinct to run._

_Instead of running away from the beast, he runs towards the flash of blonde hair in the corner of his eye._ _He is moving before he realizes it, running across the courtyard as fast as his feet will take him. The other men, useless as they are, cower in fear of the mechanical beast._

_Looking around, he searches for some place to shield her from the blast. He comes up short, as the courtyard is an entirely open space, and the pillars that line the courtyard are entirely decorative, offering little to no coverage._

_Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a pot lid, propped up against a kettle of soup. He slides by it, snatching it in his hand, his pace never faltering as he dives in front of the girl._

_It is better than nothing._

Link lifted the crude Boko shield in front of him, as he was blinded by the blast from the Guardian: a beam of light and energy.

_In the first second, Link sees it hurtling towards him, and in the next, he feels it, the energy pushing powerfully against the pot lid. He, in turn, pushes back against it, causing the beam of energy to cascade back towards the Guardian, hitting it directly in its eye._

_The force of the blast pushes him into the girl, their limbs flailing as it sends them lurching towards the walls of the courtyard._

His Boko shield burst into flames upon impact, and the Guardian in the abbey exploded. Link only had a moment to think before he shielded himself with his arms from the raining mechanical bits. He sat there, amongst the fire and the wreckage, breathing hard as he tried to understand what had just happened.

He shook his head. He had lifted the shield in front of him at the last second and… _reflected_ the beam back at the Guardian.

As to how he had done it…

He had remembered.

Link stumbled, his vision spinning as he struggled to pull in a breath. His chest felt tight, and his heart was pounding. He collapsed against the side of a broken wall, leaning his head back against the cold stone. He had fought against those creatures before. Of course he had. But instead, in that instance, it had been in a courtyard. He recalled spires twirling above the walls, recalled the blue and red and white and gold uniforms of the other men – _knights,_ his mind supplied, though the very revelation made his stomach churn – recalled the way he ran desperately towards the flash of blonde hair, sprawled out on the grass – her large green eyes wide in fear as the Guardian stalked forward.

On instinct, he turned his head towards the north, towards the castle. Though it was blocked behind ruined walls and crumbled architecture, he saw the castle his mind's eye: saw the sweet yellow golden hue emerge from within it.

Princess Zelda.

* * *

When Link emerged from the final of the four shrines on the Great Plateau, he had to admit, he felt much less angry than when he had first entered it.

Of course, the ability the shrine had given the Sheikah Slate was the ability to produce a seemingly unlimited amount of bombs.

And thus, Link had utilized the slate to blow up everything in sight.

It had been quite cathartic.

Then, Link looked up to the skies expectantly, and was not disappointed. The Old Man soared down from seemingly _nowhere._ Really, Link was beginning to find it quite predictable.

The Old Man took one good look at him and smiled, "Well now, it seems that with this, you have acquired all of the Spirit Orbs from the –"

"Who's Princess Zelda?" Link practically spat, "And how do I know her?"

The Old Man paused, his eyes widening, "You remembered something about my… about the Princess?"

"I…" Link rubbed his face, closing his eyes, "One of those Guardians – just over there –" he pointed ahead, without opening his eyes "– it's still alive. Or was, anyways. I had hardly a second to react. But then I remembered. I had saved her from one, before. I had deflected it…"

"…with a mere pot lid," the Old Man finished.

Link looked up, as he felt his skin grow cold in the hot sun, "How… how do you know that?"

"Link," the Old Man began, "I think it is finally time for me to tell you everything."

"And to hand over that paraglider," Link said, his eyes flickering down to the man's hip, "I've done what you've asked."

"So you have," the Old Man nodded, "But first…"

Link groaned, but the Old Man paid him no mind. He gestured to the Sheikah Slate, "Imagine an X on your map, with the four shrines as the end points. Find the spot where those points intersect. I shall wait for you there."

"Wait, what?"

But before Link could say anymore, the Old Man began fading away in the mid-afternoon sun. Link blinked, not trusting his vision – but could not deny how tiny little green dust motes began to flicker around the Old Man's disappearing form, until all that was left was a faint green will-o'-the-wisp – then, nothing at all.

Link was getting really fucking tired of that crazy Old Man.

He had done everything the Old Man had asked of him – and still he was being given the slip. He had said he would explain everything, but had been so cryptic about it – "Find the spot where those points intersect" – what in the world did he mean by that?

With no answers except for the raging anger burning from within him, Link had little choice but to take out the Sheikah Slate to figure out what that Old Man had been talking about.

He opened the map, carefully examining it. He had said to imagine an X on the map, connecting the four shrines. Not the tower of the cave he woke up in – but the shrines themselves that he had just completed. He traced the map with his fingertips, the cool, strange glass firm beneath his fingertips. He traced from shrine to shrine, and where they intersected…

…was that magnificent temple.

Well, that was perfect, then. He had been itching to make his way over there.

He placed the slate on his belt then, looking up around the ruins of the Eastern Abbey. The Temple of Time, as the slate had dubbed it, was just over the hill, a short distance away. Really, he was in the best position having finished this shrine to be able to make his way to the temple.

Though, he supposed he could have used that 'warp' feature the Old Man had mentioned his slate could do. Though, the thought of that still made him uneasy.

Perhaps the Old Man's disappearance just now could have been attributed to the warp feature? Did the Old Man have his own Sheikah Slate? He hadn't seen the Old Man use one, but it was the only feasible explanation that Link could think of.

Though, he had to face it – nothing on that plateau had come anywhere close to being feasible.

He made his way past the broken Guardian towards the temple. The Guardian was still burning – and there was a metallic, smoky scent rising form the carcass. The smell of it was familiar to Link – though he couldn't place it. If he closed his eyes though, he could feel it: the cold rain, the soggy mud, and a sharp pain radiating from his sides and shoulders.

He opted to keep his eyes open.

He trudged over the hill to the Temple of Time, and even in its disheveled state, Link could not deny that it was still beautiful. On the side he approached, the wall was almost completely missing – yet in its place, vines and ivy scaled down the massive gaping hole.

Just inside, Link gasped – as he saw a magnificent statue of a Goddess at the far end of the chamber. He approached the statue, feeling something itch from deep within him. He felt compelled towards it, but at the same time… repulsed. There was something about it that made Link grow uneasy – something about it that made Link want to chuck one of those bombs from the Sheikah Slate at it.

Something about that blank, benevolent stare, and her smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Link adverted his gaze.

Looking around, he saw that much of the inside of the temple had been overgrown and ruined as well. In the front of the temple were additional shells from the Guardians – inactive, Link affirmed with the release of a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding.

The Old Man had said that he would meet him here. That he would tell him everything about what was going on. Yet, despite his directions, the Old Man was nowhere to be seen.

Link sighed.

But then – out of the corner of his eye – Link saw something that had blended in well with its surroundings, poking through the broken walls and the moss and ivy. Outside of the temple there was a small ladder, leading skyward towards the top of the temple. On one hand, Link didn't think it possible for the Old Man to be able to scale the ladder leading to the top of the temple. On the other hand, the Old Man had already proven him wrong twice – meeting him at the top of the Great Plateau Tower and at the peak of Mount Hylia.

Link began climbing.

The sun was just beginning to set in the west, and the skies were cast in deep reds and yellows. As Link reached the top of the Temple of Time, he shielded his eyes from the light, squinting across the roof.

Much of the roof had been destroyed – whether naturally or intentionally, Link didn't know, nor did he think mattered much anymore. Just ahead, at the steeple of the temple was a small opening – and there, he saw the Old Man awaiting him, with a glint in his eye.

Link tested the roof, and finding that the parts still intact were strong, quickly made his way over to the Old Man.

The Old Man let out a chuckle, "Well done, there, Link."

He realized in that moment he had never told the Old Man his name.

"Now then… the time has come to show you who I truly am."

Then, Link was blinded by a bright light – a mixture of a muted form of that wonderful yellow from the castle, and that pale green that had accompanied his disappearance before. When the light faded, he looked up.

The Old Man from before was no more. Instead, in his place, stood a King. Or rather, he floated. Around him, green will-o'-the-wisps danced around his ankles, and though Link could see that he was here with him, he could very much tell that this man was dead.

"I was King Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule. I was… the last leader of Hyrule. A kingdom, which no longer exists."

Instead of the black robes the King had been wearing in his previous persona, he wore regal robes befitting of a King. However, his long white beard and regal robes had been starkly stained dark red, following a gash from his neck to his abdomen.

"The Great Calamity was merciless," the Last King of Hyrule stated, "it devastated everything in its path, lo, a century ago," his hand trailed up towards his neck, "It was then that my life was taken away from me. And since that time, here I have remained, in spirit form."

"You died here," Link realized, looking up at the King, "You died here alone, didn't you? That's why there's no one else here on the plateau."

"Not alone," the King grimaced, looking out over the plateau, "Though the last one hundred years have been spent in isolation, waiting for your return. All my men who died valiantly… their souls crossed the bridge to the Goddess Hylia long ago. Yet here, I remained: waiting for your return."

Link knew not how to reply to that.

"I did not think it wise to overwhelm you while your memory was still fragile," the King continued, "So rather than that, I thought it best to assume a temporary form. Forgive me. Though, seeing how you remembered the Princess… I think you are now ready… ready to hear what happened one hundred years ago."

"Tell me," Link whispered, his eyes flickering towards the castle, "What happened?"

"To know Calamity Ganon's true form, one must know the story from an age long past," the King began, "The Demon King was born into this kingdom, but his transformation into Malice created the horror you see now. Stories of Ganon were passed down from generation to generation in the form of legends and fairy tales… but there was also… a prophecy: 'The signs of the resurrection of Calamity Ganon are clear, and the power to oppose it lies dormant beneath the ground'.

"We decided to heed the prophecy, and began excavating large areas of land. It wasn't long before we discovered several ancient relics made by the hands of our distant ancestors. These relics, the Divine Beasts, were giant machines piloted by warriors. We also found the Guardians, an army of mechanical soldiers that fought autonomously, like the ones you see littered around the plateau. This coincided with ancient legends, oft repeated throughout our land.

"We also learned of a Princess with a sacred power, and her appointed knight, chosen by the Sword that Seals the Darkness. It was they who sealed Ganon away using the power of these ancient relics. One hundred years ago, there was a Princess set to inherit a sacred power, and a skilled knight by her side. It was clear that we must follow our ancestors' path.

"We selected four skilled individuals from across Hyrule and tasked them with the duty of piloting the Divine Beasts. With the Princess as their commander, we dubbed these pilots Champions – a name that would solidify their unique bond. The Princess, her appointed knight, and the rest of the Champions were on the brink of sealing away Ganon…" the King drifted off, screwing his eyes shut.

"But then…" Link pressed, "What happened?"

The King turned away, averting his gaze off towards the castle, "Ganon was cunning, and he responded with a plan beyond our imagining. He appeared from deep below Hyrule Castle, and seized control of the Guardians and the Divine Beasts. He turned them against us. The Champions lost their lives – those residing in the Castle as well. The appointed knight, gravely wounded, collapsed while defending the Princess. And thus, the Kingdom of Hyrule was devastated absolutely by Calamity Ganon. However…"

He turned back towards Link then, a lone tear drifting down his cheek, "The Princess survived… to face Ganon alone. That Princess was my own daughter… my dear Zelda. And the courageous knight who protected her right up until the very end… that knight was none other than you, Link."

Link froze, as he processed the information. He had been the Princess's _knight_? Well, that would have made sense, considering the way he had saved her from the Guardian with a pot lid in the courtyard. Yet still, any knight should have done that.

He recalled the rest of the knights standing around useless and grimaced.

"I must have not been a good enough knight though to have fallen at her side," Link muttered.

"You fought valiantly when your fate took an unfortunate turn," the King nodded, "and then, you were taken to the Shrine of Resurrection. Here you now stand, revitalized, one hundred years later. You may have fallen a century ago, but you have been given an opportunity for… redemption," the King seemed to choose his words carefully, "You were placed in the shrine for a reason. You, alone, have the power to save Hyrule, and though you were not able to before, you have been given the chance to now. Don't let this opportunity go to waste."

Link nodded, "And the voice I've been hearing… the Princess…"

"Yes," the King said, "The words of guidance you have been hearing since your awakening are from Princess Zelda herself. Even now, as she works to restrain Ganon from within Hyrule Castle, she calls out for your help. I would do anything to be able to hear her voice once again," he trailed off suddenly, his words clipped as though he hadn't meant to say it, "However, my daughter's power will soon be exhausted. Once that happens, Ganon will freely regenerate himself, and nothing will stop him from consuming our land."

"So it's my duty to save her," Link whispered, not meeting the King's gaze, "If I may ask, why should I?"

"What did you just say?"

"I don't even know her. I hardly remember a thing about her. I don't even know who I am. How am I supposed to save her when I haven't even the faintest idea where to begin?"

"It's been one hundred years since you fell in battle," the King began, "and as such, most who knew you are long since dead – except my daughter, who arguably, knew you better than anyone else. If you want any chance at regaining your lost memories, you must save her… my daughter, and do whatever it takes to annihilate Ganon."

"Well, it can't just be as simple as striding up to the castle, can it?"

"No," the King whispered, "Somehow, Ganon has maintained control over all four Divine Beasts, as well as those Guardians swarming around Hyrule Castle. I believe it would be quite reckless for you to head directly to the castle at this point. I suggest that you make your way east, out to Kakariko Village. There, you will find the elder, Impa. She was one of my most trusted advisors, and Commander of the Hyrulean Royal Army. In fact, there was a time that you were directly reporting to her," a small smile drifted onto his face, his eyes lost in the past, "You two never could seem to get along."

"Oh?" Link tilted his head slightly, "Why was that?"

"It doesn't matter anymore," the King said quickly, before resuming, "She will tell you more about the path that lies ahead."

Link nodded, wringing out his hands, "How do I get to Kakariko?"

The King pointed out towards the west, and Link could make out the outline of two massive peaks, "Make your way past the twin summits of the Dueling Peaks. From there, follow the road as it proceeds north. There should be a stable or two along the way if you get lost and need directions. Despite the isolation of the Great Plateau, there are other people still living in this land of Hyrule."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Link joked, though the King's solemn face did not budge.

He reached behind him, pulling out the paraglider, "Go on… here is the paraglider, just as I promised. With that, you should be able to safely fly off the cliffs surrounding this area. The rest now is up to you."

"Wait," Link stumbled, "That's it? That's all you can tell me?"

"I've told you everything I can…" the last King of Hyrule whispered, and Link could see that his form was already beginning to fade. He reached out towards the King, but his hand fell through him – translucent. Green dust motes began circling around the King. Faint will-o'-the-wisps began appearing at his ankles.

"Link… you must save Hyrule…" the King said, his voice a mere whisper on the wind, "Before it's too late."

And then, the last King of Hyrule was gone, with not even the whisper of his green ghostly visage remaining.

And Link was left utterly alone.

He looked down at the paraglider the Old Man – the King – had given him, gripping it tightly in his fingertips. It was the only tangible evidence that he had that none of the last day had been hallucinated. Even then, as he tossed it from hand to hand, feeling the fine craftsmanship smooth beneath his fingertips, he couldn't help but doubt himself. Everything that had happened in the last day had been fantastical at best and irrational at worst.

And yet still: the castle loomed in front of him, beckoning him forward. He had no reason to dive in there – no reason to save this maiden – this – this – Princess Zelda. Yet he felt this desire, this undeniable force that, if ignored, threatened to all but drag his sorry ass to the Great Gates of the castle.

Though he had to agree with the King: saving her would lead to answers as to who he was, and why all he felt was a deep, seething anger bubbling from within him.

He gripped the paraglider in both hands, and with a running start, leapt out of the steeple of the temple.

He soared down to the ground in no time, landing just to the south of the Great Plateau tower. That was the easy jump – now came the hard part.

Twilight was enveloping the plateau in thick, deep purples and dark blues. From above, the sky was littered in tiny diamonds, flickering down over the land. Link squinted, just making out the outline of the Dueling Peaks, cast in an orange glow from a nearby tower. On one hand, he knew it would be better to wait until morning.

But on the other hand, he wanted to spend no more time on that blasted plateau.

Thus, his choice was clear.

He was to find this Impa the King had spoken of. She would have more answers.

Link gripped the paraglider in both hands, set his trajectory towards the east, and leaped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okaaaaaaaaay then. Finally got Link off of the Great Plateau. Original goal from waking in the shrine to the great leap was around 5,000 words. Took me 13,000 words across two chapters to get that lil boy to fly. Call me a wordy bitch.
> 
> The memory referenced in this chapter is from Chapter 3 of TI!
> 
> The amount of detail regarding the shrines in this story is the most I'll cover for a shrine. In fact, I don't dabble in the shrines at all moving forward.
> 
> So as much as I like to say this is an AU, I'm gonna call a spade a spade and say that both TI and this are retellings of BotW. They both follow the same beats given to us by the game and in the memories in TI. However, everything in between is what constitutes it as my AU. Like I mentioned last chapter, the focus of this story will not be on shrines or Divine Beasts. You all aren't here for that, I hope. You're here for the discovery of Link finding out who he truly is. And boy, he will be discovering himself. There's gonna be a big sense of dramatic irony in this story. But hey – we love to see a sense of suspense.
> 
> Now is where the real fun begins.
> 
> Next chapter… we get to see the retired Commander Impa! I bet some of you have been dying to see her! It's been one hundred years! I've been thinking of chapter 3 since probably midway through writing TI, when I first starting thinking about what would happen in a sequel in my story. This was one of the first scenes I thought of, and I am SO EXCITED to share it with you. If you're still here and haven't read TI, first off, hi –howareya, secondly, GO READ ABOUT COMMANDER IMPA, YOU FOOL. SHE IS A BADASS, SKULL CRACKING BITCH, WHO TAKES ZERO BULLSHIT. I love her.
> 
> Let me know your thoughts on this chapter! And I'll see you all next Saturday!


	3. Chapter 3

Link passed under the wooden archway, hearing the faint prayer cloths and wind chimes tingling above his head.

Kakariko Village.

It had been two days since he had left the Great Plateau, and he had opted not to stop once. Stopping would have meant wasting time – or worse, the potential for somebody to notice him.

He really didn't want to be noticed.

Prior to making his way through the divide of the Dueling Peaks, Link had approached the soft orange tower just before it. He scaled it, much like he had scaled the tower atop the Great Plateau, and slammed the Sheikah Slate down in the pedestal.

He uncovered the regional map for East Necluda, according to his slate. There, just off to the north, beyond the shadow of the Dueling Peaks, was Kakariko Village. By then, the sun had set well below the horizon and the moon was shining overhead, bright and cerulean. He opted to make camp at the top of the tower. He had to admit – it was significantly safer than being on the ground.

The following morning, he opted to soar from the top of the tower into the maw of the mountain. Along the way to Kakariko, he had passed a stable and an inn, which had really been the highlight of his trip thus far. Really, the entire countryside was deserted – with only the remnants of a kingdom long gone remaining. The stable was the one thing that looked anywhere close to lived in – and lived in it was. Hylians had congregated there, some staying indefinitely, some passing by. Some were playing music – a rich accordion wafted through the air – some were playing games, and some were exchanging stories – their faces illuminated by the flickering flames from a campfire.

Link wanted no part of it, despite the ache in his stomach from a lack of food other than berries and plants, and despite the enticing pull from the beds Link could see just beyond the archway to the inn.

He really wasn't all that tired, he told himself, despite the dark circles under his eyes.

That, and he hadn't a single rupee to his name.

Link kept walking.

He was eager to meet this Impa lady and find out what she knew – about the Princess, about the Divine Beasts, about why he had hardly a shred of memory to his name. During his travels, Link was overjoyed to not have to listen to the woman's voice – the Princess, supposedly – blaring in his ears. Indeed, his travels were quiet, with only the sounds of the wind and the wildlife as his companions.

He made his way down the swooping hill into the heart of the village. 'Find Impa', the King had said. Easier said than done, he realized, as all of the Sheikah dressed in similar robes, their hair the same striking silver shade.

He groaned, as the ground leveled out beneath him in that main village center. It was a quiet village, he noticed, as he saw farmers tending to patches of pumpkins and carrots. Nearby, a middle-aged woman was hanging laundry on a line to dry. Just ahead of him, he saw a large hut just before a waterfall, with two guards at the stairs leading up. With any luck, those stairs would lead to where this Impa was.

But then, someone caught his eye.

It was midday, the sun beating just over his head. He squinted through the harsh rays, and he saw a woman knelt down just ahead, scrubbing what looked to be some sort of shrine. From behind, her silver hair was much the same as everyone else's, her clothing nothing special. And yet still, something about her drew him to her. His eyes flashed between the stairs and the girl, his mind calculating, before he made his decision.

He stepped towards the girl.

"Excuse me," Link said, wincing as his voice graveled against his throat. He hadn't spoken to anyone in two days. Not since the King had left him completely alone at the top of the temple.

"Y-Y-Yes?" The girl stuttered, before turning around and meeting his eyes.

He had never seen this girl before in his life, yet there was something about her that stirred up some deep emotion within him. Something that began boiling from deep in his gut and threatened to burst.

And then he caught sight of the red Sheikah eye blazing on her forehead.

Watching him.

He stumbled back.

" _You there. Hero."_

_Link freezes, his body going numb as he recognizes the girl. She looks the same – yet different – brown eyes morphing into blazing red. She is a warrior, her eyes trained to watch his every move._

_Commander Impa._

_Around him, the grass morphs from warm greens to cool greys – a training hall. Weapon racks line the walls, and the room they are in is slightly sunken into the ground._

_And in the Commander's hands is her Eight Fold Longblade, as it comes crashing down towards him, every precise movement with the intent to kill._

Link flipped backwards, his vision going red as he created space between him and the Commander before she came at him again. This time, however, Link drew his shit sword above his head and sent it crashing down, while the Commander narrowly avoided his attack with a shrill shriek.

Was this who the Old Man had wanted him to seek out? He hadn't remembered back up in the steeple of the Temple of Time, but now that he was here, he had to wonder what his ulterior motives were. Clearly, this Commander Impa was set out to kill him.

His world spun, deep reds and greys shifting into cerulean blues and greens. Before he could comprehend what was happening, and he was disarmed, his rusty shit sword clattering away from him, his arms pulled behind his back. He was pinned down, his head being pushed roughly into the grass just at the base of the grand staircase.

He thrashed against the restraints, managing to buck off the weight and rolled out of the way. His blade was gone, but that mattered not: his fingers were itching, as they curled into a first.

He drew his fist back, aiming at the blurred shadow of one of his assailants. He could see now that there were two of them, and though he could process that sounds were registering in his ears, he could not decipher what was being said. So the Commander had brought back up, huh? Well, he supposed that evened the playing field. After all, it wouldn't have been fair for him to fight against one worthless Sheikah.

His thoughts were coming in waves – just fragments of memory trickling into his mind. In retrospect, had he not been fighting for his life, he might have been shocked at the crude thoughts beginning to surface.

His first punch landed true, staggering his attacker. He took this opportunity to dive out of the way, clutching his shit sword in his grip before spinning around. He had hardly a second to react as one of the men lunged on him. He sidestepped the man, pulling his blade back before stepping forward. The man leaped out of the way, just beyond the tip of his blade, and Link was about to lung forward again when –

A fist connected with his cheekbone, followed by another shrill shriek. Just how many were there? He stumbled backwards, falling onto his back, as stars erupted across his eyes. He rolled onto his side, white-hot pain radiating from his temple, before he was met again with a swift kick to his stomach.

He was surrounded on all sides, mere shadows coming across his vision as it all blurred together. He tasted iron on his tongue – thick and hot. His eye was throbbing, quickly swelling around his socket as he furiously blinked blood out of his vision. One of the men twisted his arms behind his back in an iron grip, and Link was brought to his knees.

" _Yiga."_

At the simple word, Link felt his blood boil and his vision go red, again. He struggled against his assailants, desperately trying to free his arms from their grip. But they only tightened in response, pulling his arms back – back – back – much further than they were supposed to go. He cried out, and was met only with another kick to the gut.

"Enough."

His attackers froze, though their grip on him only tightened. Link followed their gaze upwards, towards the great hut, and locked eyes with what he could only describe as an old hag. Really, she was small and shriveled, cast in the shadows of her obscenely large rimmed hat. Yet, her eyes blazed red down towards him, and Link was frozen, unable to look away as she made a slight motion with her hand.

"Bring him to me."

Despite her appearance, her voice was strong, steadfast, and leveled. At this, Link was hauled onto his feet, gasping as his ribs protested against the rough movements. He was pushed forward, towards the great stairs, and all but stumbled up them as the two men apprehending him dragged him up. Link could feel blood oozing down from his nose, and sweat dripping down his back in the afternoon sun. He was shoved without ceremony into the elder's home, and forced to his knees.

He looked up, locking his one good eye with the ancient old hag's.

Her face betrayed no emotion, though her words were crisp, and sharp like a blade, "So, you're finally awake," she began, "Yet, it seems that even after all this time, your first instinct is to attack my village. Tell me, _why_?"

"What are you talking about?" Link grunted, feeling the two men close in on him.

"Don't try to fool me," the Old Lady hissed.

"What –"

Then, she paused, her eyes widening from underneath her massive round hat, "Yet… you are looking at me as though I am a stranger to you. Those eyes… they lack the light of familiarity."

In response, Link simply stared, trying to conjure up any memory he must have had of the Old Lady.

She waved her hand, her eyes sharp towards her guards, "Leave us. I wish to speak to the boy alone."

"But, Lady Impa –"

" _Now,"_ she bit out, and Link's eyes widened, his mind calculating with the new information.

The two guards left the room, the silence deafening as the Old Lady – Impa – rested her eyes on him once more.

"So it's true then, what my sister predicted," Impa whispered, "You have awoken from the Shrine of Resurrection with not a memory to your name."

"You…" he whispered, his eyes squinting as he tried to compare the image of Commander Impa in his mind with the shriveled old lady in front of him, "You're Impa?"

"That begs the question though: you attacked my granddaughter, my clan," Impa whispered, evading the question, "Why?"

"Your granddaughter?"

"Oh, don't be daft," Impa bit out, "The young girl you just attacked? My granddaughter? I must admit, she's plenty capable of defending herself – your eye can attest to that. But that's beside the point: _speak_."

Link paused, shaking his head, "I… I thought she was you. I looked at her, and I saw… you. But not you, since you…"

"Since I'm old," Impa supplied, the corners of her eyes crinkling fractionally, "One hundred years will do that to a woman."

Link sighed, his head beginning to throb, "I don't remember you – or, I didn't remember you, until now. I woke on the Great Plateau, and I couldn't remember anything. But things," Link's hand twitched, "have been coming back; in spurts. I saw that girl and… I wasn't here. I was in a training hall, and she... you… were attacking me."

"So you recalled something from before," Impa whispered, "A memory. Tell me," Her eyes grew sharp yet again, "Have you remembered… anything else… since you awoke?"

"Not much," Link confessed, "A couple of memories on the Great Plateau… one where I saved the Princess from a Guardian with a pot lid."

At this, Impa began to cackle, her voice finally beginning to show her age, "So then you do remember the Princess."

"Yet she keeps speaking to me," Link muttered, his brow furrowing, "She won't leave me the fuck alone, and the sound of her voice…"

"What about it?" Impa prompted, leaning forward on her seat.

"It makes me so angry," he whispers, his fist tightening, "Why does the sound of her voice fill me with so much rage?" He pauses, his eyes widening as he looked at Impa again – his mind flashing back, seeing her younger, stronger, _different,_ he admitted, but those eyes were the same, red and blazing. His heart rate sped, "Why does the memory of you make my blood boil?"

"You had a difficult past, and you kept to yourself," Impa said, her eyes drifting away, "You and I never did see eye to eye. As to why the Princess and myself make you angry, I can't say I know why."

"You're lying," Link's palms itched, and despite her words, he felt a wave of chills envelope him, "You know something, don't you?"

"Come now," Impa whispered, her eyes sharpening fractionally, "You may not remember me much, but trust me when I say I would never lie to you. What I do know is despite your past… well… it matters not. In fact, having lost your memory, that may actually be a blessing in disguise for the time being."

Link stared at Impa for a long time, his cold, blue eyes locking with Impa's fiery red. She would not budge, it would seem, and he sighed.

"Fine," he whispered, while storing that bit of information for later. He would find out what Impa was keeping from him. But for now, he had more important things to uncover, "I was told to seek you out. I'm supposed to save the Princess – that she can help me recover my memories. I was told… that you would know more about the path that lies ahead."

"Indeed, I do," Impa said, her face shifting into neutrality, "A hundred years ago…" she paused, her eyes lost in memory, "Yes, a hundred years ago, the kingdom of Hyrule was destroyed. After you fell, Princess Zelda's final wish was to place you in a sacred slumber. And then, all alone, she went to face Ganon. Before Princess Zelda went nobly to meet her fate, she entrusted me with some words she wished to say to you. I have been waiting one hundred years to deliver the Princess's message. However," she paused, her eyes growing sharp, "These words, which the Princess risked her life to give you… well, if you are to hear them, you must be prepared to risk your life as well. But I am afraid that burden may be too much to bear. Forgive my reservations, but you attacked my granddaughter in front of my guards without a second thought. You are reckless. A liability."

"I can handle it," Link whispered, desperate for any hint or clue as to who he was, "I'm ready."

"Hmph," Impa grunted, the corners of her eyes crinkling, "Once a Hero, always a Hero, I suppose," she leaned forward in her seat, "Very well. Since you have lost your memory, I will recount for you all that has happened…

She recounted a tale from ten thousand years prior, of an advanced civilization. The ancient Sheikah, in preparation for the return of Calamity Ganon, constructed the Guardians, and the four Great Relics known as the Divine Beasts. Each was piloted by a warrior, and aided the Hero in the assault against Calamity Ganon. As the Hero delivered the final blow, the Princess used her ancient powers to seal the Calamity away.

"But…" Link whispered, "The Divine Beasts and the Guardians now… and the Princess…"

"We were ill-prepared for his return," Impa nodded, "A hundred years ago… in preparation for the foretold revival of Ganon, we strove to follow the lead of our ancestors ten thousand years prior. But… in the end… despite our best efforts and careful planning, we underestimated his power."

"So then what should you have me do?" Link asked, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes, "I doubt I can just take on the Calamity by myself."

"No," Impa agreed, "In order to avoid ever making that grave mistake again, the Princess left you these words: 'free the four Divine Beasts'. They were essential to the Princess and the Hero ten thousand years ago, and they will be essential now."

"Understood," Link said, "But where are these Divine Beasts? I haven't seen them."

"They are scattered, in the four provinces of Hyrule," Impa whispered, "There was Divine Beast Vah Ruta, controlled by the Zora Princess, Mipha… Divine Beast Vah Rudania, controlled by Daruk of the Gorons… Divine Beast Vah Medoh, controlled by Revali of the Rito… and Divine Beast Vah Naboris, controlled by Urbosa, the Chief of the Gerudo."

"How do I free them?" Link asked, his vision going blurry as the information became overwhelming.

"You must infiltrate the Divine Beasts that were stolen away from Ganon one hundred years ago and rid them of Ganon's malice. The leaders of each race can give you more information about each Divine Beast," she paused, her eyes glancing towards the slate on his hip, "Let me see your Sheikah Slate."

Reluctantly, Link unhooked the slate from his belt and handed it to Impa. She, surprisingly, reached out for it with strong fingers and snatched it from him, looking over the slate with mild familiarity, "I am no expert on the Sheikah Slate," she confessed, "But it would seem that the slate is incomplete. There is a feature missing that will no doubt help you on your journey. The Princess was an avid researcher, and she compiled real to life images on the slate during her time with you. Perhaps with this feature restored, some of the images will help to piece together your memory. Someone at the research lab in Hateno Village may be able to help you."

"Hateno Village?"

"It's a small village, to the east," Impa nodded, "One of the few that avoided suffering significant damage during the Great Calamity. Now," she tapped her hand on her knee, "You'd best be off. But, before you go…"

She reached behind her, pulling out a small, dusty chest, "I had been saving this for you for over one hundred years. I will hand this over to you now, before I forget. It was something of yours that I have been keeping safe, by request of the Princess. This clothing was made specifically for you when you became a Champion. Please handle it with care."

She opened the chest and pulled out a pair of tan trousers, a firm pair of leather boots, and a sky blue tunic. Instantly, Link knew it was his, "The tunic: it's embroidered with the hilt of a sword," he whispered.

She paused, a small smile forming on her face, "Indeed, it is," she whispered, "Do you remember anything else?"

"I… I don't," Link whispered, feeling the garment soft in his fingertips. The memory was just on the tip of his tongue, and yet… it was gone.

Impa nodded, "Your memories will come in time. Though," she paused choosing her words carefully, "It is possible that your mind may… fabricate… some memories to compensate for the loss. If you remember anything… interesting… anything that doesn't make sense," she looked at him then, her eyes hard, "Come see me, and I will help discern its viability."

"There is one more thing," Link said quickly, clutching the tunic in his hands. Impa's eyes flashed towards him, hot and fiery, and he held her gaze.

"What is it?" Impa asked, smoothing out the skirts of her robes.

"Your men," Link said, his mind racing back to before, when they had him pinned, "They had whispered something in my ear. They had called me something, and…" Link screwed his eyes shut, remembering, "It was also part of my memory."

"Do you recall what it was that they had said?" Impa said, slowly, her eyes narrowing before him.

He stretched his mind back, back, back – desperately grasping onto the fragments of his memory that had stumbled back to him. He had been in the training hall – the air was dusty – his cheek was pushed roughly against the wooden planks – the grass – the sunshine – no, the shadows – it was the Commander – it was her men – it was –

"Yiga," he whispered, and he didn't miss how Impa's eyes grew wide at this word, at the sharp inhalation through her nose, "Your men called me Yiga. _You_ called me Yiga. What does that mean?"

Her lips were pressed in a firm line, and she spoke slowly, seeming to choose her words carefully, "The Yiga Clan is an organization here in Hyrule – an organization whose purpose is to resurrect Calamity Ganon and wreck havoc and terror across the land. They are responsible for the Queen's assassination over a century ago, and had tried and failed to assassinate the Princess of Hyrule as well. Forgive my men for thinking you Yiga. It's not every day someone attacks our clan, and when they do, it's generally an assassin."

Link nodded, his mind calculating, "But then… you –"

"A fabrication," Impa said firmly, interrupting him in a tone that demanded his attention, "I never accused you of such. That would have been… impossible, for _you_ had pulled the Master Sword, _you_ were _chosen_ by the Goddess Hylia to be her Hero."

"The Master Sword," Link whispered, and immediately, Impa's eyes lit up, "Why does that sound so familiar?"

"It is an ancient sword, and one with many names," Impa supplied, "It is the Sword that Seals the Darkness – it is the Blade of Evil's Bane – and it is the same one wielded by the Hero throughout all the legends."

Link's palms itched, "Where is it? Do you have it?"

At this Impa cackled, "Alas no – before the Princess set off to meet her fate, she told me she intended to keep it safe, in the Korok Forest deep within the Great Hyrule Forest."

Link saw cherry blossoms in his mind, "It's just beyond the castle, isn't it?"

Impa's head snapped up, her eyes sharp, with the corners of her lips curled upwards, "Indeed it is. However, I do not think it wise to travel there now, in the days following your awakening. The way to the Korok Forest is treacherous: the path is through the Lost Woods."

"I can handle it," Link argued.

"Forgive me for saying this, but I don't think you can," Impa whispered, "Your mind is still fragile – one hundred years ago, it was forbidden for anyone to travel through the Lost Woods alone. The rules of the woods have not changed in that time, and they do not care that you are the Hero of Legend. You must get stronger before you transverse the opaque fog."

Link nodded, averting his gaze, "Very well. Where would you suggest I go to first?"

"As much as I would like to see the Divine Beasts liberated and the Princess saved as soon as possible, you'll find your journey much easier with that Sheikah Slate there at full capacity," Impa said, "Travel to the east from here, just beyond Fort Hateno to Hateno Village and speak to those at the research lab."

Link nodded, "Who did you tell me to speak to, again?"

"I didn't," Impa grimaced, "But… you'll be looking for Dr. Purah… please do give her my regards for me."

Link nodded, gathering up his tunic, trousers, and boots in his hands, before making his way to the door.

"And one more thing," Impa's voice rang out. Link paused at the door, his hand grasping the wood, before he turned around. There, Impa sat, with a katana laid across her lap.

"Take my sword," Impa said, holding it out in her steady grasp, "It has served me well for over a century now, but I would be lying if I said it has gotten its fair use in the last few decades. Take it: I think you'll find it much more agreeable than that dull blade you have there."

Link took the blade, unsheathing it. It was a strong, well-balanced sword. The sight of it was familiar: it was the same blade the Commander had used in his memory. Her Eightfold Longblade.

He couldn't help but wonder if this was a trap.

However, the firm look in her eyes told him it wasn't, and Link was not about to pass up a perfectly fine sword. He strapped it to his back, nodding once before heading out.

He passed by the two Sheikah guards just outside of Impa's home. They stood on the offensive, having been ready to dive into the Elder's home at any sign of their meeting going south. Link sighed, shouldering his way past the guards and making his way down the great stairs. The sun was blinding and by now, his one eye was completely swollen shut. He could scarcely see.

One glance towards the girl by the shrines had her head in her hands, and a squeal from her throat, as she ran in the opposite direction.

He rolled his eyes… well, his one eye.

Things were becoming increasingly more complicated, he realized. While his task was simple enough at face value – save the Princess from the castle – the steps leading to it were not. His mind was swimming with information: make his way to the Hateno research lab, free the four Divine Beasts, make his way to the Great Hyrule Forest, and then save the Princess.

All this just so he could get some fucking answers and recover his memories.

He trudged onwards, making his way up the hill, where he saw one of those shrines like he had seen on the Great Plateau – its orange, Sheikah eye staring down at him from up the hill.

It had all better be worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter three ~ fleshing out the objective and solidifying Link's motives. Next chapter, we make our way to Hateno Village, but I will say, that's not the highlight of that chapter. You'll just have to wait and see. No clear memory sequence referenced next chapter, but of course, places and memories and people are alluded to throughout the entire story, in smells, tastes, sights, sounds. Impa describes the Great Hyrule Forest – Link sees cherry blossoms in his mind and knows it's behind the castle. Stuff like that.
> 
> This chapter's memory is derived from Chapter 2 of TI! One of my favorite scenes from that story. God I love Impa.
> 
> Speaking of Impa, we won't be seeing her for a while yet. I specifically condensed a bunch of key points into one scene to make the storytelling easier. The first meeting with Impa and getting the quest for the Divine Beasts, the tunic (normally you would get a memory first but Link's gotten THREE so far), and I had her allude to where he could find the Master Sword. Does anyone in the game actually tell you about it? I know village elders will inquire about it if Link doesn't have it, but does anyone actually tell you where to find it? I took a liberty and had Impa tell him where to find it. Cause lemme tell you, my first play through, I almost beat the game without finding it cause I was STUPID.
> 
> Let me know your thoughts on this chapter! See you next Saturday!


	4. Chapter 4

Let it be clear: the warp feature on the Sheikah Slate must have been invented as a torture device.

It seemed like a good idea in theory. Link only took a few steps outside of Kakariko Village on the road to Hateno when his chest had begun to ache. Lifting his shirt, he sighed. His skin was already beginning to turn blue and purple from where the Sheikah guards had kicked him. Not to mention, his entire left side of his face was throbbing in pain – he couldn't even see out of his left eye.

Thus, he pondered his slate for a bit. The Old Man mentioned the slate had a warp feature – a way to be instantly transported to any shrine or tower that he had visited previously. The technology seemed skeptical at best. There was simply nothing else like it; how in the world was a simple, tiny slate supposed to teleport him from one place to another?

That being said, how in the world was a simple, tiny slate able to do all of the things it could?

He shrugged, having nothing to lose, and opened up the map on his slate. There, he highlighted the Ha Dahamar Shrine. He held his breath, and pressed travel.

He felt his bones evaporate before his muscles, followed by his skin, and then all the rest. He was floating, everywhere at once and yet _not at all_. He was weightless, soaring across the expanse of nothingness, and it was all he could do to shut his eyes, to plead that the Goddess was indeed merciful, and pray that it would be over soon.

It probably lasted no more than a couple of seconds, but the agony and horror of the dreaded warp feature was something that would haunt Link for the rest of his life.

He would be quite content to leave that feature of the slate unused.

His feet landed on solid ground and were quickly followed by his knees. Bile rose from his stomach, and he retched, his head hanging over the edge of the shrine and into the pond.

His head pounded against his skull as he shifted so he was leaning against the shrine. His limbs were loose and shaky, and overhead, the sun beat down burning rays onto his shivering body. He closed his eyes, content to stay there against the shrine until his body regained its equilibrium. He must have stayed like that for some time, or had caused a scene, or both, for in no time at all, soft limbs were around his shoulders, hauling himself up to his feet, and it was all he could do to keep his one good eye open.

His eye drifted and focused, and to his horror, was face to face with a Goddess-damned _bird_.

_Hallow Boned Hawk,_ he thought. Though looking at the hawk-bird-thing, it didn't quite fit the imagery his mind was displaying. The beak was too round, its eyes too kind. Whatever it was, it was a stranger to him.

Indeed, it would seem that Hallow Boned Hawk wasn't the proper terminology for the bird before him.

The bird's beak was moving urgently in front of him, but for the life of him, Link couldn't make out what he was saying through the buzzing in his ears. It must not have been important, for the bird stopped its yapping and hauled him up again, and began to drag him towards that very same stable he had walked past the day before.

The very same one with those enticing beds in the inn.

As well as the same one with all of those questioning travellers.

Link's consciousness roared back to him instantly.

"I'm okay," he slurred, slumped against the bird, his feet stumbling beneath him as he fought for his balance.

"My friend, at least have the physician take a look at you," the deep tenor whispered, his grip tightening around his shoulders.

"Don't call me friend," Link grunted, pushing away from the bird, and was surprised that there was little resistance. He fell forward, falling sprawled on the grass. The bird peered down at him as though he was some scared animal, and Link chastised himself: with the disturbance he made just now, he couldn't say he blamed him.

Link swayed to his feet, ignoring the wing the bird extended towards him, "Thanks," he said dryly, "But I don't need any help."

"If you don't mind me asking," the bird said, "What's your name?"

Link whipped his head towards the bird, suddenly on edge. He didn't need people – much less bird people – to know who he was, "What's yours?" He countered.

"My name is Kass," the bird said jovially, "I spend my days travelling this land in search of ancient songs."

"What…" Link had no idea how to say this, so he just said it, "What are you?"

"Have you never met a Rito before?" the Rito – Kass – asked, "How odd…"

Link looked up at the Rito, and this time, got a good look at him. He was a tall blue and white bird creature, with orange markings. On the Rito's back was an exquisite accordion, and Link realized that he must have been the accordion player he had heard from the stable the other night.

"Can you point me in the direction towards Hateno?" Link asked, his sense of direction compromised from his sudden unwelcome warp.

"It's just down that road," Kass pointed with a large wing, "Straight through Fort Hateno – you can't miss it! Goes straight through an old battleground," his eyes narrowed sharply, weighing something, "You know, I do happen to know a song about this place. Would you like to hear it?"

"I really, really wouldn't," Link said dryly, making his way to the counter of the stable, leaning heavily on it, and got the attention of the man running it, "How much to rent a horse?"

" _Rent?"_ The Stable Master exclaimed, "We _register_ horses here. We don't _rent_ them. If you want one, you've gotta catch one yourself."

"Where can I find one," Link shook his head, already growing impatient with the man.

"There's herds of horses just 'round back in the field," the Stable Master pointed, "Just be careful, you know? Bokoblins like to hide in the shrubbery, and just last week, Beedle there got shot with one of them lasers from them Guardians."

"Hit my pack though," said a frail man steeply over encumbered by his monstrous pack, "People always say my pack is gonna be the death of me – nosiree, it's the life of me now!"

But Link wasn't listening. His heart was pounding and his blood was racing. His vision tunneled, "Did you say Guardians?"

"Oh, you don't have anything to worry about, long as you stick to the main road," the Stable Master said, "Course, Beedle here took a detour, taking a shortcut. Those Guardians are sunken into the ground too – been a hundred years or something since that battle. They can't follow you, no matter how bad they want to!"

That was relieving – albeit concerning – but relieving nonetheless. Link wanted to avoid those Guardians as much as possible.

"So I just catch a horse," Link reiterated, "and then you guys will saddle it up for me?"

"Sure will! We do require a fee of twenty rupees for registering her in our networks, but after that, she's yours!"

"Sounds easy enough."

Alas, it was not easy enough.

The first herd of horses was easy enough to spot. Link snuck up behind a black horse with white spots, and quickly mounted himself onto her. Next thing he knew, he was airborne, and landed hard on his backside, adding to his extensive list of injuries.

The second herd of horses was deeper in the field. This time, he snuck up behind a pale blue horse and mounted it, this time hanging on for dear life as he begged and soothed the beast. Like before, he was quickly bucked off, and watched as the horses scattered into the distance.

The third herd of horses was almost by the fort the Rito had mentioned. At this point, he might as well make the rest of the trip to Hateno, but he knew he would much rather have a horse for travel than rely and utilize the treacherous warp feature of the slate. He approached a stunning brown mare, with white socks and a white mane. He knelt, deep in the shrubbery, and, taking a deep breath, leapt at the mare.

It was bizarre – the stallion was instantly soothed under his touch. He stared off into the distance, squinting, wondering just what the fuck he had done to anger those last two horses. That mattered not though – this horse nickered gently beneath him, and seemed stronger and gentler than the last two. She would do just fine.

Link brought her back to the stables, earning wide-eyed envious looks from some of the other travelers, "Well look at you! Got yerself a horse, now?"

"Just tell me what you need to register her," Link mumbled, dismounting briefly as the Stable Master handed him a sheet of parchment.

"Just sign here if you would," the Stable Master said, "and then right next to it, write in the name of yer new steed."

Link shook his head, bewildered, "You want me to name her?"

"Course I do!" The Stable Master said, "If you don't, I'll have my niece over here name her for you – and you wouldn't want that for dear old Fluffy Butter Noodle Cups, would you?"

Link's eyes grew wide, as he exhaled from his nose, a slight growl emitting, "Fine," he whispered, looking at his horse's gentle face. Indeed, his horse looked familiar in a way, and not just because he had spent ten minutes stalking her before he had pounced. No, there was something about her – something that called and spoke to him – like a gentle whistle on the wind…

"Epona," Link whispered, writing down her name in his shaky Hylian script, "I'll name her Epona."

"Epona, eh?" The Stable Master whispered, taking back the paper, "Haven't heard that name in a long time. Very old fashioned – but no matter! Epona it is! That'll be twenty rupees, please."

Link fished out the rupees – he had sold off a couple of monster parts before he had left Kakariko. He held out the rupees, before pausing, and then fetched another twenty.

"And a bed, please."

* * *

The next morning, Link had set out on Epona towards Hateno, and made great time. The way was littered with Bokoblins as the man had said, but Epona was faster, and Link watched with great satisfaction, as the beasts looked up in confusion, having no idea what hit them.

Except for the one that he did hit. That one knew what hit him.

There was another tower in this region. Link had quickly dismounted Epona and raced up the tower to activate it. He was getting quite good at this now, he had to admit, and soared down from the top of the tower using his paraglider.

As Link approached Hateno Village, he gasped, his eyes widening as he took it in. Now _this_ was a village. Little tan houses were scattered along the road, which wound up to the top of the hill. It was a gentle little village, one with children running and playing, and mothers gossiping on the corner. Up the winding hill were some farms, their windmills spinning lazily in the late afternoon sun. At the peak of the hills overlooking the small village, just as Impa had said, was a research lab, looming over the village. Even from his spot on the ground, Link could make out the shape of an astronomically large telescope perched on the edge of the building.

He passed through town slowly on Epona, daring not to make eye contact with any of the villagers. At his arrival, the woman in town stopped laughing, the children stopped running and the men turned their heads, their grips tightening on their farm tools.

He was just a stranger passing through town. Nothing more, nothing less.

He passed through with little commotion, though the reactions from the townsfolk made him wonder. It was a lively town, and most of the Hylians he had met so far were friendly enough. Perhaps they had a bad run in with strangers in the past.

Perhaps they wished not to speak with him as much as he loathed the idea of speaking with them.

The winding path up the hill was slow and precarious, but in no time, the path opened up to a large plain, and there: just above an orchard of apple trees was the research lab. Link sighed, releasing the breath he had been holding. He would get in, get his Sheikah Slate repaired by whoever this Purah lady was, and get out and be on his way.

He dismounted Epona and approached the door to the lab, noting the absurd statue of a _frog_ wearing _glasses_ perched on the awning to the door.

He had to wonder if he had known Purah one hundred years prior. He had known Impa – _remembered_ Impa – he supposed that it would be possible for him to remember Purah too.

With this in mind, he braced himself as he reached for the door.

Inside, he was met with a barrage of working machinery and flying papers. The lab was a whirlwind of chaos, and it was clear to see that whoever was in there was in the middle of an experiment of some kind. No memories accompanied him, no tingling sensations, and no drifting smells of rain or burnt clothes.

But there: beyond the swirling leaflets and cranking equipment, was a little girl, who could have been no more than six. Beyond her was a lanky man, his back turned towards her, thinking nothing of the fact a little girl was in the epicenter of her own calamity.

Link approached the girl, feeling very much out of place in her world of swirling research notes and chaos, "Um, excuse me."

"Symin! I thought I told you to put that sign I had colored on the door! We are to have _no visitors_ during these experiments –"

The little girl turned around, her squinted red eyes now widening in surprise and shock. Her long, white hair was piled high on her head in two top buns. It was only this, paired with the fact that she was standing on a stool, that she reached Link's height.

The man in the back – Symin, Link presumed – turned around, noticing the silence. Silence was not a normal thing in this research lab.

Link breathed in sharply through his nose, his eyes flickering between the two Sheikah, "I was told to find a Dr. Purah –"

And then this little girl was clinging to him and screeching in his ears, as though it was the end of the Goddess-damned _world._

"Linky!" The little girl squealed, her arms locked around his shoulders in a vice grip. Link fought the urge to rip her arms from his shoulders and to send her flying, "I just knew you would come! I _knew_ you would come here!"

The little girl was removed from his shoulders by a very patient looking Symin, who lifted her under the shoulders to place her back on her stood. Link instinctually took a step back.

The little girl was still babbling, "I saw it in my telescope, yes I did! The day all the towers burst from the ground and the shrines lit up! I counted each one of the towers – exactly the amount that the Princess and I had hypothesized! And then _you_ came here! Now, I thought the Shrine of Resurrection was supposed to wipe your memory clean away, but it seems that you _remembered me!_ You made your way here in a snap to see Dr. Purah!"

"Wait, wait, wait –" Link held up his hand, his mind spinning as he squinted at the little girl, "You're Dr. Purah?"

The Sheikah researcher Impa told him to seek out… was also a six-year-old little girl?

It was enough to make his head spin.

"But you're just a little kid!"

"Wrong!"

Link tilted his head to the side, his eyes finding Symin's, who simply shook his head.

"Well, I suppose technically you're right," Purah said, jotting down something in her notebook, "But also, _wrong!_ Anyways, do you remember any dreams from your time in the Slumber of Restoration?"

"The what?" Link asked.

"Oh, silly me!" Purah said, "That's the sleep you were put under while in the Shrine of Resurrection!" She turned towards her notebook then, muttering, "Subject is unaware of the shrine's mechanisms, will follow up on."

"Wait, what –"

"You don't look like you've change a bit in the last one hundred years," Purah went on, completely ignoring him, "but _something_ must have happened in all that time!"

She paused then, her eyes growing wide as she stretched onto her tiptoes as she studied Link's face. Symin was just off to the side of Purah, spotting her.

"…Linky?"

She really better start thinking twice about whether she should be calling him 'Linky'.

"What's with that look? You do still remember me, right?"

"I don't," Link muttered, running his hand through his hair and letting out an exasperated sigh, "I was told to come find you. That you may be able to help fix this," he reached to his belt, holding up the Sheikah Slate. But she wasn't looking.

"Really?" Purah said; her hand thrust upon her heart and her jaw dropping, "You don't remember me? I'm so shocked, I don't know if I'll ever be able to recover from this! We went so far back!"

"She was acquainted with you through the Princess," Symin interjected –

"Shut _up,_ Symin, I'm trying to have a moment!" Purah admonished, clicking her tongue.

Symin shut his mouth.

"You don't remember me," Purah resumed her moment, "Even though one hundred years ago, I took you to the Shrine of Resurrection after Calamity Ganon wounded you. Sheikah soldiers carried you towards the plateau and I coordinated the entire effort!" A lone tear escaped her eye. Link suppressed the urge to roll _his_ eyes, "Even though I was the one who put you safely into the Slumber of Restoration. Despite all that, you still don't remember me?"

"Nope," Link said, fully expecting an outburst.

Purah paused, on the verge of tears, before she smiled, "Just as I expected!" She reached towards her journal, muttering, "After one hundred years in the Slumber of Restoration, subject… has… lost… all… memories… Noted!" She punctuated each of these words with a sharp smack of her lips.

This time, Link _did_ roll his eyes.

Purah looked up, her cat eye classed having fallen to the tip of her nose, "Oh sorry," she said, looking not sorry in the slightest, "I have a bad habit of taking notes rather abruptly like that. It's a charming quirk, isn't it?"

"Sure," Link said, thrusting the Sheikah Slate towards her again, "Can you help me? This Impa lady in Kakariko said that you could help."

"My sister," Purah whispered, before she shrieked, "My sister! You met my sister! Oh how is she? Did she talk about me? You know she never answers my letters!"

"Your sister?" Link gawked, "How is she your sister? That lady is ancient, and you're…"

"Youthful? Charming? Brilliant? I could go on," Purah posed, and Link's head swiveled towards Symin, looking for reinforcements. Symin had already backed away, silent as anything, and was back with his books in the corner. Link sighed.

"A little girl," Link said, "You're a little girl. How can she be your sister?"

"That's a rather logical conclusion to jump to," Purah said, jumping off her stool, fetching a book on the other side of the table, "The truth is, I look this way due to a failed – or perhaps successful, depending on which way you look at it – experiment. My goal was to be able to reverse the aging process for our retired warriors, so we could strengthen what was left of the Hyrulean Royal Army before Calamity Ganon's inevitable return. Not to mention, us Sheikah knew that the Slumber of Restoration would take upwards of one hundred years, and we still needed to deliver the Princess's message to you. Though we Sheikah have longer than Hylian lifespans, we are, sadly, not immortal. Oh, how the world would benefit from our wisdom if we were."

She trailed off, getting lost in thought, before Link cleared his throat. She continued.

"Thus, I began a series of experiments, and the test subject was, of course, _me!_ And it _worked!"_

"A little too well," Link noted dryly.

"Details, details," Purah waved him away, "Anyways, enough about that! Back to the topic at hand! Here you are, after one hundred years! Here to defeat Calamity Ganon and save our beloved Princess Zellie! That is," her expression darkened, "if you've got the courage to try."

"Can – you – fix – this?" Link pushed the slate into the small Sheikah's vision, and she gasped.

"The Sheikah Slate…" her eyes bulged out of their sockets, "The _Sheikah Slate!_ Why didn't you tell me you had this?"

Link just about had enough with this little girl's eccentric bullshit.

"This certainly changes things!" Purah whispered, "Yes, I can absolutely help restore the basic functions missing from the Sheikah Slate," she took it into her hands, her fingers twirling across the screen at lightning fast speeds. Link balked, "So it looks like you're missing a few runes, like the Sheikah Sensor and the Hyrule Compendium! The Sheikah Slate was in the possession of the Princess one hundred years ago. There are some pictures we might be able to recover that could jog your memory. There was hardly a moment that went by where you weren't by her side. Whatever she saw, you saw too."

"Great," Link said, "How long will it take?"

"Why, no time at all!"

"Then let's get started on it!"

"We can't!"

Link paused, "Why not?"

Purah jumped off her stool, heading towards the corner of the room where a Sheikah pedestal stood. In fact, it looked strikingly similar to the ones at the top of the towers. Her tiny hands slapped the machine, "Do you see this Guidance Stone lighting up? It needs _power!"_

"Well, how do we get it powered up?" Link asked, his patience wearing thin.

"I'm glad you asked, "Purah sang, before taking Link's hand in her sweaty palm and dragging him outside. Outside, a storm swirled overhead, just about to let loose. Clouds rolled overhead, darkening with each passing second. Purah pointed one stout finger off towards the northwest. Link squinted, "See right over there? There's an ancient furnace with a blue, eternal flame that I need you to bring back here!"

Link's patience broke.

"No."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I am not going on a wild trek to gather some blue, mystical fire to power your weird, ancient Sheikah… _thing_."

"Oh, _come on!"_ She groaned, jumping in the air, "It's just down the road, you can't miss it! You'll be back in a snippity snap!"

Link squinted again, searching for the blue flame she spoke of. He could hear Purah beside him, muttering, "Subject's eyesight has deteriorated significantly since awakening. Perhaps he needs glasses."

There, just barely visible through the haze, was the sight of a blue flame, flickering in the distance.

_From overhead, the sound of thunder booms, and his vision blurs. He hears the spinning of Guardian heads, the crunch of their claws against the mud._

_The flickering blue flame in the distance bursts with magenta. It morphs into the pulsing plasma laser of the Guardian, and is ready to fire._

Link stumbled back, his breath quickening as he saw the Guardian get closer to him. Where there was one Guardian, there was bound to be more. Distantly, he heard Purah call out his name, but it mattered not. He shook his head, willing the sounds to dissipate.

Thunder cracked overhead and he ran, vaulting himself onto Epona. He kicked her sides and ran hard, sending Epona into a frantic gallop down the hillside.

The sky opened up, and Link was bombarded with heavy sheets of rain. He pushed his hood over his eyes, as the rain poured and assaulted him from all angles. Truth be told, he was beginning to understand and rationalize these hallucinations. He was beginning to recognize the signs of when he was recalling a memory – when he was experiencing a flashback. Still, it didn't stop the way his heart raced in his chest, nor the way he grew lightheaded at the revelation.

Even through the merciless rain, Link could see the bright blue blaze just off in the distance – the eternal flame burning even in the downpour. Eternal flame – not merciless Guardian. Sure – Purah's request had been simple, and he supposed it was a fair exchange. But it mattered not: he refused to go back there. The simple thought of it sent lightning fear up his spine; the scent of burning flesh and muggy rain filling his nostrils. Whatever upgrades the research lab could have performed on the slate, whatever it was that the Princess had left for him, he decided that it was just not worth it.

He made his way down into Hateno Village proper; Epona carving her way through newly formed puddles and muddy banks. By now, most of the villagers had tucked themselves away inside their homes to wait out the storm. They would be huddled around their warm fireplaces, heating up a cup of tea or warm milk for the children, until the storm subsided and went about their day.

Link, however, knew no such luxury. The storm was constantly raging for him.

He knew no one in this world – absolutely no one who could be a source of comfort to him. Not that he wanted any sort of comfort, of course. The only person he knew was one crotchety old bitch who he felt the undying need to murder upon looking at her granddaughter.

If he were honest, he felt a certain level of excitement at that, still.

He exited the city in a flash of lightning, making his way back towards the west. Where would he go now? To Kakariko? The old hag had already told him everything that he needed to know.

Was he going back to finish the job?

There was something about her – something about the way she regarded him with suspicion. The same proved true for the Sheikah living up in Hateno. It was almost as though they were all stepping on eggshells around him – afraid that one wrong move, one wrong thing said would set him ablaze and wreak havoc to all around him.

Though he supposed, he had proven that assumption correct in Hateno.

It didn't matter though, he reasoned. He had a job to do, and one that he intended to finish. So what that the conniving bitch was withholding information from him? So what that the little pipsqueak child thought to have him run errands in exchange for a favor when he was _very clearly running out of time_.

He needed to free the four Divine Beasts – and quickly at that, for if what everyone was saying was true – and he knew it was true in his bones, that he had been gone for one hundred years, Time was running out.

Once he infiltrated the Divine Beasts – once he stormed Hyrule Castle and saved this Princess Zelda, who kept whispering incessantly in his ear, then he could finally corner her, and demand that she tell him everything she knew about him: who he was and why he couldn't remember a damn thing about him.

And if she didn't tell him, then he would drive his blade deep through her chest until it punctured her vocal chords.

He pulled back on Epona's reins, a cold shiver running through his veins as the thought came and went, unbidden in its arrival. He could see it very clearly in his mind's eye, standing over this faceless Princess. The night was young and the sky was burning bright red, and there she lay: on the cold marble just outside the glowing archways, her green eyes unseeing in the crimson moonlight.

He shook his head, running his hand along his face and willing his mind to go blank: to banish that unwelcome thought. What was wrong with him? Why, in his moment of furious anger, did his mind create extravagant fantasies of killing this Goddess-damned Princess?

Why did it all feel so real?

He fell off of Epona in a slump, his limbs buzzing as his mind attempted its fruitless rewind back to something more civil. He wasn't sure where he and Epona stopped, and it was difficult to tell in the pouring rain. He lifted the slate, pulling up the map, and saw that he was just beyond Fort Hateno – that shifty looking fort outside of Kakariko that looked as though it would fall any minute. Indeed, through the thick rain, he could see the outline of it – and still, he couldn't help but wonder if the rain would be strong enough to destroy it once and for all.

He stumbled next to a boulder, the pouring rain be damned, and fell onto his backside. The rain cascaded down his face from the heavens, and for a moment, everything was numb. He no longer felt – he no longer thought. It was blissful. It was peaceful.

"You there! Traveller!"

It was shortly lived.

He snapped his head towards the voice. There, just beyond the canopy of the chilling rain was a traveler, just as soaked to the bone as he was. This traveler didn't seem bothered by it, though, and merely grinned, taking a step towards Link and Epona.

There was something about the man that was familiar, but for the life of him, Link couldn't figure out why that was. He didn't recall seeing him in Kakariko or Hateno, or even the stable. There was nothing extraordinary about him. He looked like he was any old Hylian, with firm trousers and a hefty pack. His eyes were sharp, trained on him, and even in the aura of familiarity, there was something sinister that crept up from within him. Link shifted the Eight Fold Longblade strapped to his back.

"I was wondering if you knew the way to Kakariko Village," the traveler explained, "You see, I've been looking for someone; someone who has only very recently returned to this land."

"Who are you looking for?" Link asked, shifting in his stance. The grin on the traveler's face only grew wider.

"Oh, his name would have been lost to time," the traveler snickered, before taking a step forward, and with a glint in his eye, "But the leader of my clan, Master Kohga, wants him dead or alive."

The air grew stale as the traveller took one step forward.

"I choose dead."

Maniacal laughter filled his ears, from above, from below, _everywhere._ The traveler disappeared in a flash of orange and black smoke. Link dove to his left, instinct guiding him more than anything. The traveler leapt from the skies, striking down on the cobblestone path Link had been standing on not a moment prior.

However, the traveler he had spoken to was long since gone.

In his place – _transformed,_ his mind supplied – was a warrior, clad in a black and red body suit, wielding the most vicious and magnificent sword Link had ever seen. His face was covered – donning a white mask with a red, inverted Sheikah symbol. His innocent persona was long gone, and instead, Link was met with the terrifying soldier in his place.

_Yiga._

Link unsheathed his Eightfold Longblade from its scabbard, somersaulting out of the way of the soldier's massive sword. With each strike, strong gusts of wind cut across the landscape like a knife on butter. Link looked up, wide-eyed as he struggled to process the strong wafts of familiarity from the fight. Indeed, with each strike from the Yiga Clansman, Link parried effortlessly. He knew exactly where the assassin would strike at any given moment, knew where his feet would land, knew where he would appear from.

It was clear to Link that he had fought these assassins before.

One small change in his footwork, and Link saw a clear opening. He sidestepped the assassin, parrying his sword once – twice – thrice, before lodging it deep up the sternum of the soldier, puncturing his vocal chords.

A perfect mirror to his fantasy of killing the Princess.

The assassin sputtered, blood dripping down from his lips in a silent scream. Link kicked the man off of his blade, hearing the squelch and gurgle of blood against his blade before it was unsheathed. In the pouring rain, the blood was washed away from his blade, creating a thin river of crimson near his boots. The man's mask had been knocked off during battle, and his eyes were wide, unseeing in death as they dulled beneath the grey, weeping skies.

In the aftermath of the fight, Link's mind reeled. It was not lost on Link that this was the same clan that the Sheikah in Kakariko had accused him of being. Yet… this clansman had mistaken him for someone else. He must have: for he had been asleep in the shrine for the past century. It must have been a mistake: a simple, deadly mistake.

Yet… he had mentioned this Master Kohga. The name brought with it no memories, but ushered in feelings of pride, arrogance, terror.

He needed to find out more about this clan.

Just off a few feet away – just out of reach – was the clansman's broadsword, shining brilliantly silver against the muddy pavement. Link approached the sword, admiring how well cared for it was. It was immaculate – shining without a hint of rust blemishing its features. He glanced at his katana, noticing how just from that last battle, its dents were more prominent, the metal loose in the hilt, and he was certain that it was just one well-placed parry away from shattering before his very eyes.

He discarded the old katana, tossing it to the side without a glance back, and picked up the assassin's sword. The sword was light, firm, _powerful._ It felt natural in his hands as he tossed it back and forth, testing its weight.

_Windcleaver._

He found that he much preferred this sword. He sheathed the sword on his back, tossed himself onto Epona, and headed west, his spirits much higher than they were before.

Behind him, the clansman laid in quiet death, as his blood drained out of him in the pouring rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The memory alluded to in this chapter is actually not a memory at all, but a fantasy Link had in Chapter 17 of Treacherous Intentions. It wasn't italicized, since it wasn't a real memory, and it was a brief revelation.
> 
> I really love the idea of Impa giving Link her Eightfold Longblade – as a way to try and keep him on the side of the light. But as we know, our Link is anything but righteous, and he's finally reunited with his trusty Windcleaver.
> 
> I had thought about keeping the trip to Hateno out of the story, since he doesn't actually get the camera and compendium features fixed on his Sheikah Slate, but it is a very important scene… I'll let you all think about the significance of why that is.
> 
> I have hit a small writers block that I'm working through. I've been working on some other projects for BotW while I let this simmer in the back of my mind. I've written through to chapter 7 of this though, so there's still time. I'll let you all know if I need to space out updates a little bit!
> 
> Up next, we head off towards Zora's Domain! I'm really pleased with how the dialogue turned out in the next chapter. One of the things I tried to avoid but failed miserably at, was not copying dialogue verbatim from the game. In TI, all of the memory scenes had the original dialogue + new dialogue and that was a good hybrid. Obviously, chapters 1 and 2 in this story were a bit more dry. I'm pleased with the dialogue from chapters 3 and 5, and I revamped dialogue for this chapter literally the night before I published it.
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading this little project of mine! As always, drop a comment down below, and I will see you all next Saturday!


	5. Chapter 5

Link entered Zora's Domain: clothes soaked, skin cold, and muscles twitching from residual shock.

Following his encounter with the Yiga Clansman, Link had looked to his Sheikah Slate and decided to follow it to the closest Divine Beast: Vah Ruta located in Zora's Domain. He had gone the long way around, passing through the shadows of the Dueling Peaks instead of taking the shortcut through Kakariko. He had no desire to face the Sheikah once more.

If he were completely honest, killing the Yiga had felt… good – really good. He found himself reliving the kill in his mind as he travelled across the plains, enjoying the way his blade had slid effortlessly through the assassin's gut and back out through his throat. He relished in the way the blood splattered on the muddy ground, before dissipating in the pouring rain.

But what really brought a grin to his face was the way the assassin's eyes were wide with fear, even in death.

It sent a thrill up his spine. In a way, he knew it was wrong. He knew that he shouldn't feel this rush from a kill.

Yet still, the assassin had tried to kill him – whether he was mistaken for someone else or not. The man got what was coming for him.

Link found that he didn't mind that so much.

As he breached the Dueling Peaks, riding atop of Epona, Link caught sight of the castle once again. From his distance, the castle seemed almost peaceful, placed up against a backdrop of clear, blue skies and whispering cherry blossoms. However, that was if he completely ignored the swirling, oozing magenta magic wrapping its tendrils around each spire – the way that radiation seemed to exude from its epicenter: burning anyone who dared to come too close.

So yes: it looked peaceful, if one decided to ignore the fact that it clearly was _not._

Link half expected to hear the Princess screech in his ear as he rode just on the outskirts of Hyrule Field, telling him where he needed to go, what to do, that he _must hurry._ Yet, the castle – the Princess – was silent, and Link was pleased to just be able to enjoy the ride on the nice, mild day.

He intended to ride straight through the Lanayru Wetlands on to Zora's Domain, but Epona had other ideas. As they approached at a steady canter, she slowed down and reared back, a wicked cry coming from her throat. Try as he did to sooth her, she was inconsolable.

Then, his stomach growled.

He supposed this was as good of a place to stop for lunch.

Thus, he wadded through the wetlands, forgetting all too late that perhaps he should have left his boots on dry land and rolled his pant legs up. He sighed, feeling the murky waters squish between his toes as he bent low, searching for an unsuspecting fish.

Following Epona's insistence, he trailed around the wetlands, always keeping the Lanayru Tower in sight: a firm landmark of where he needed to go. A massive Bokoblin camp surrounded the tower, but with a few effortless swings from his Windcleaver, the threat was eliminated, the tower was climbed, and Link was walking away with a clear path towards Zora's Domain.

And then it began to pour.

One moment it was clear skies – with not a cloud in sight. The next moment, it was cold, bitter rain, sharp against his face and numb against his skin. He crossed the Inogo Bridge with a hand over his eyes, with only the dim light from a luminous stone guiding his way.

The path up to Zora's Domain was treacherous, zigzagging its way around the Zora River as though the people who made the path had never heard of _efficiency._ Indeed, he found himself lost and disoriented at times, the pouring rain turning the cliffs of Lanayru a dull navy. It had been raining for hours, and he wondered just how much longer the rain could go on for. Should he stop and make camp? Wait out the rain? Certainly, Epona was feeling the effects of the cold, bitter rain as well.

Then, just as he made the decision to camp out under a small alcove, Link felt more than he heard the air around him crackle – thick with electricity – and he had only a moment to duck before a shock arrow was sent whizzing past his ear and into the river beyond.

Looking up, his eyes widened, locking with the red, beady eyes of reptilian beasts.

_Lizalfos._

He was getting used to the moments of clairvoyance when his mind would supply the word to whatever the object was in question. In his time since waking from the Shrine of Resurrection, Link had come to the conclusion that not only was he an accomplished knight, much like the King had alluded to, but he was also a damn good fighter. There had yet to be a monster he had discovered since waking that he didn't already know how to defeat. Each monster he faced, he had a different way of approaching. He instinctually knew its fighting patterns, its weaknesses, and he took damn pride in how efficiently he took them down.

However, shock arrows mixed with the wet landscape of Lanayru was a recipe for disaster, and memories or not, Link knew that. He threw himself over Epona, feeling the air thicken and crackle for the second time, and spurred her onward in a ferocious gallop, slippery slopes be damned.

Zora's Domain appeared in the distance on one of the final switchbacks. The Domain was carved into the rocky cliff sides of Upland Zorana. It glistened and shined in the darkness, like a beacon against the torrential downpour. It created a picturesque backdrop as he fought off Lizalfos with a perfectly aimed arrow – while narrowly missing the whizzing static of their shock arrows as they flew past him.

None of the arrows had hit him directly, but the resounding aftershocks of one of them froze his muscles in perfect rigidness, and even hours later, it still felt like his hair was standing up.

Needless to say, after dropping Epona off at the stable outside the Domain, walking into the slippery, soaking land of the Zora felt like a vacation.

He couldn't wait to take a nap.

"You there. Hylian."

Or not.

He spun towards the voice, and balked, his eyes growing wide as he was absolutely dwarfed by what he could only describe as a Fish Boy approaching him. He realized that he must have passed some as he had entered the Domain, but while those had been of a dull, monotone color, this Fish Boy was a bright red, a stark contrast against the cool, sea green backdrop of the city.

_Royal Trout._

Indeed, Royal Trout worked too, and this fish matched the image that surfaced in his head. The same race, same coloration, and similarly adorned in jewels from head to fin. Only this trout was at least double his own height, looming down on him, his sharp teeth glistening in a manic smile.

He felt the instinct to reach for his sword.

"You just might be exactly the person we've been looking for," The Fish Boy paused, his eyes narrowing towards him, "But pardon me for being brash: you look at me as though you have never seen a Zora before."

"I need to speak to the leader of this province," Link said, ignoring the way his muscles spasmed near his ribs.

"You'll want to speak to my father, then," the Fish Boy said, motioning him to walk with him, "My name is Prince Sidon. Your timing is most impeccable. Travel along the Zora River has diminished to next to nothing due to the colossal rains from the Divine Beast, and we have actually been looking for a Hylian to aid us with something."

"This rain is from Vah Ruta?" Link asked, as they made their way deeper into the Domain.

"Yes, in fact, I…" Prince Sidon trailed off, stopping completely before turning towards him, his eyes growing wide, "How do you know the Divine Beast's name? Forgive me, it's just that most of that history has been lost to time. Most people only refer to Ruta as the beast."

Link sighed, a headache beginning to form from behind his eyes, "I'd rather not repeat myself," Link muttered, "It might be best for both you and the King to hear it together."

"Of course," Prince Sidon nodded, walking again, "By the way, I didn't catch your name. What did you say it was?"

"I didn't."

"Oh."

"…It's Link."

"Link?" Prince Sidon's eyes grew wide again, before staring down at the small Hylian, "Why, that's the same name as the Hero of Legend."

"You don't say," Link said, dryly.

He wasn't sure if it was wise for him to be telling these fish people his name; he didn't know who he could trust, who wouldn't turn on him without a second thought. However, it didn't seem likely that anonymity would be possible when this freakishly tall Zora looming over him just happened to be the son of the leader he needed to speak to.

As they approached the grand staircases leading up into what Link assumed was the throne room, he caught sight of a magnificent statue. It was of another Zora, wielding an exquisite trident, as though she were defending the Domain. Prince Sidon paused beside him, sending his gaze upwards.

"My sister," he supplied, "She's beautiful, isn't she? She died in the Great Calamity a century ago. I was young, then, when she died. I wish I could remember her more…"

Link looked up into the eyes of the statue, perfectly carved, with not a detail spared. He froze, his breath catching, as his skin crawled with the telltale signs of a memory about to wash over him.

_His skin warms and the sun blazes through the pouring rain. He is with her, just outside the archway of an ancient, long forgotten road._

_She looks conflicted, like she doesn't know whether to stay or whether to go. The Zora takes an apprehensive step towards Link and the Princess, her eyes darting towards the north where she knows Ruta stands, infested with malice._

_Link knows that this will be the last time he will ever see his childhood friend. She stands before him, alive and well, but he knows that in just a couple of hours, she will be dead by her own Divine Beast. It is the way things are meant to be._

" _Link," The Zora whispers, her voice barely audible as she reaches out and clasps his hand into hers. A cold, clammy fin meets his warm, dry hand, and he has to shove down the instinct to shiver and recoil, "I'm not sure what is going to happen after today, but you must keep fighting, no matter what."_

" _I will," Link whispers, glancing up at the sky as the malice spreads further and faster, like a plague._

" _Both of you," she turns towards the Princess, and Link swears he sees tears just in the corner of her eyes, "Stay safe. All of Hyrule is counting on you. You must stay safe. You must survive."_

" _We'll see you soon, Mipha," the Princess whispers, the corners of her lips turning upwards in a forced smile._

" _I should hope not," the Zora, Mipha, says, choosing not to look into the puzzled faces of both Champions, "Where I am going, I would be loath to see you both. The sun is setting: I must go… and face my fate with Ruta."_

Link stumbled backwards, growing increasingly nauseous as the memory washed over him and he was forced back into reality. He couldn't feel the rain on his skin – still the warm glow of the sunset that evening. He still felt her voice, soft against his ear, and reassuring. He didn't realize he had collapsed on the ground until he felt cold, webbed hands around his shoulders that were much too large to be hers.

"Mipha…"

He had known she was going to die. He had known and yet still, he had _let her go._ The thought whispered through his mind, bouncing off the sides of his head: _it was the way things were meant to be._

Why did he let her go? Why, knowing that she faced certain death, did he send her off towards the beast with not even a drop of guilt? The emotions he recalled from that day were prideful – deceitful.

Why had he been pleased with her death?

What was wrong with him?

He shrugged off the webbed fingers, making his way to wobbly legs and buzzing feet, "I need to see the King."

"Link, wait –" Prince Sidon ran up to him, catching hold of his arm, "Mipha… my sister. How do you know her name?"

"Like I said, I'd rather not repeat myself," Link gritted out, pulling his arm roughly from the Prince's as he climbed the steps, "It's a long story."

"You fell back there," the Prince protested, "And you're awfully pale. Perhaps you should lie down. My father can wait."

"Can he?" Link's eyes flashed, "I think you know as well as I do that there's no time."

Prince Sidon's mouth opened, as though to speak. But then, his lips closed, pressing into a thin line, "Very well," he whispered, before following Link up the slippery stairs into the throne room, "My father's just up ahead."

Link rounded the corner from the stairs and approached the throne. There, seated atop a plush water cushion, was the King of the Zora, who Link could tell must have been centuries old. He sat there with his advisor just off to his right, an old, shriveled, crotchety looking green Zora, whose eyes widened upon his approach.

"And who might you be?" the crotchety Zora said in a gravelly voice, "The King Dorephan is not accepting visitors at this time. I shall escort you out."

Yet, the King of the Zora raised a massive clawed hand. His eyes were wide, taking Link in as he approached, "Seas below, I'm in the presence of a ghost," he whispered, "Link, is that really you?"

"Aye," Link muttered, his eyes flickering as Prince Sidon took his place next to his father. He breathed in, shaking off the residual effects of his memory, "I take it that you knew me one hundred years ago, too."

"Of course I… Link, you're not speaking clearly," the King whispered, his eyes still wide as he took him in, "I had heard that you had died in combat a hundred years ago. Yet here you stand… this doesn't make sense. Even for a Zora, one hundred years does well to their age. But you… Hylians are scarce to live past one hundred years. What happened? What is the meaning of this?"

"It's a long story, and even I don't know all of the details," Link confessed, not meeting the King's gaze, "But what I do know is that one hundred years ago, I fell in battle, like you said, during the initial onslaught of the Great Calamity. I was placed in an ancient Sheikah shrine, like the ones that have popped up across the countryside, where I've been asleep for the past century. But with that… it wiped away my memory."

"You've lost your memory?" The King balked, "But surely you remember my precious daughter, Mipha, yes? You do, don't you?"

"I don't," Link paused, looking over towards Prince Sidon, who had a knowing look on his face, " _didn't –_ until I saw the statue of Mipha from below. I still don't remember much – it's just a fragment of a memory, but…"

"What did you remember of my daughter, boy?"

Link screwed his eyes together, rubbing his hand across his face and through his hair. What could he say to the King, about his daughter? How could he tell him that the one memory he remembered was one of her last – his last too, he thought sardonically – and one where he let her go, knowing full well she was off to meet certain death? And he had felt good about it too: he let her go with almost a boyish glee.

He felt like he was going to be sick, and not just because he had felt good about it.

But rather, deep down inside, he _still_ felt good about it.

"Before she went to Vah Ruta after the Calamity struck," he managed, his fingertips grazing across his chest in an attempt to calm his frayed nerves, "I had said goodbye to her. She was so brave then, but now I know…"

"It pains me to hear of some of her final moments, but it brings me a sort of sad joy to know she was with you," the King finally whispered, and when Link looked up, he saw a sort of pain present on the King's face that had not been there before: one that he had certainly kept locked away for so, so long, "She loved you, you know?"

The simple truth sent a cold wave down to Link's toes and fingers, and the room spun. Instantly, cold, webbed hands that were not hers were on his shoulders, stabilizing him. She loved him. She loved him. She loved him and he killed her. The room twisted and distorted around him, and black spots dotted his vision. He forced himself to look up into the eyes of the King, his voice hoarse, "She loved me?"

"She was ready to propose," the King had a sad smile on his face, giving a quick gesture to one of his advisors who quickly left the room, "I understand this is a lot to take in. I can't imagine what it must have been like to wake to a world devastated by Calamity with not a memory to your name. I pray that in time, the Goddess restores it."

Link nodded, his eyes drawing back to the King's, "For now, how can I free the Divine Beast?"

"Your timing is impeccable," the King bemused, "For this is a task that we have actually been looking to recruit a Hylian for. It is something that cannot be easily done by a Zora. However, you've had a long journey, I gather. For now, I'm sure you'd like to rest."

"No," Link gritted out, pulling himself out of the Prince's grasp, "I want to help. I'm here to free Vah Ruta from Ganon's clutches. Tell me what I can do."

"You've already done enough," said the shriveled Zora from his corner, his eyes blazing towards him, "My liege, you cannot allow this to happen. To ask a _Hylian_ for help… after what happened to our dear Mipha… why, it curls my fins."

"Muzu, I expected more of you," the King's voice boomed, a far cry from the breath of a whisper he had been using, "How can you still protest?"

"How dare you speak so rudely to the King and his guest," Prince Sidon stepped forward, and Link stepped back. His jaw was set, his chin high, and Link no longer saw the Prince of the Zora, but her future leader, "This Hylian has some to us in our most dire hour of need. The fact that our paths have crossed is certainly a work of fate. You would do well to remember your place."

"Indeed," the King agreed, "and memories or not, Link is one of the five great Champions, just as Mipha was. If anyone can appease Ruta, it's he. As things now stand, Zora's Domain – no, perhaps all of Hyrule – is doomed to be swallowed by the sea. This is bigger than all of us, my friend. Zora and Hylians alike must put aside our differences and band together."

"I _do_ remember my place," Muzu hissed, a bitter tone like acid in his voice. Prince Sidon's eyes shot over, "You would do well to remember the grief you hold for the Lady Mipha's death is not just exclusive to you. We have all felt the bitter hole her death carved out," Muzu turned back towards Link, his eyes ablaze with firm hatred, "We cannot trust these lowly Hylians. A hundred years ago, they abused the power of an ancient civilization, and turned Hyrule into what it is today. And that's not the least of it."

"Muzu," the King warned, his tone foreboding, "Hold your tongue."

"It's _their_ fault that the Lady Mipha was lost to us!" Muzu bit out, lashing a frail, sinewy limb towards Link.

" _Enough_ " the Zora King roared, shaking the very foundations of the Domain, "Muzu – take a swim. Get out of my sight right now if you know what's good for you."

At this, the frail advisor's lips clamped shut, his webbed hands clasped behind his back, and he hastily strutted out, mumbling under his breath.

Once he was gone, the King turned back towards Link, a clawed hand coming up towards his face, "I apologize for Muzu. There are still quite a few of the older Zora who remember my daughter, and are still hurting from her untimely death. I can't say that I blame them, but Muzu spoke out of turn."

"He's right, though," Link whispered, his fingers digging into his palm, "It is my fault."

"Nonsense, my dear boy," the King said, "The Calamity was not your fault. You would have had no way of knowing what was going to come next."

Yet, he had known that Mipha was being sent off to her certain death. It sent shivers down his spine.

"In any case," the King continued, "The Divine Beast Vah Ruta has great power. It has the unique ability to create an endless supply of water. As of late, it has been mercilessly sprouting water into the air, and as a result, this place has been plagued by heavy rains."

"So I've seen," Link whispered, his head tilting out towards the Domain where rainwater echoed against the stones.

"Yes," the King said, "For us Zora, water and air are as one: we are able to adapt to both. For this reason, the problem lies not with us, but with the rest of Hyrule. The rains have filled the eastern reservoir nearly to the point of flooding. If the reservoir bursts, as I fear it soon will, immense damage will befall on not only Zora's Domain, but in the area downstream of us. There, I fear Hylian lives would be at stake."

"How can I help?"

"Your Princess, Zelda, often studied the Divine Beasts – that is, in the time before the Calamity."

"She did?" Link asked, "I can't say I remember that."

"No?" the King laughed, "It was all that she ever spoke of, during her visits to the Domain. At any rate, according to her research, the orbs located on Ruta's shoulders are mechanisms that control the water it generates. However, they require electricity to work."

Link's arm involuntarily spasmed at the word, and he begun to get a bad feeling in his stomach.

"The retired Sergeant Seggin, who is quite shock resistant for a Zora, hit it with a shock arrow," Prince Sidon said, "Sure enough, it slowed the water a bit. Unfortunately, as an aquatic race, we Zora are terribly vulnerable to the power of electricity."

"Hylians aren't exactly immune either…" Link mumbled, though the Prince carried on as though he had not spoken.

"Perhaps because we could not safely strike it with enough electricity at once, the water soon returned to full force. Link, I'm certain you've already figured this out…"

He was going to have to use shock arrows, wasn't he?

"We need you to use shock arrows to get those orbs working properly again."

Link sighed, drifting his gaze up towards the Zora King. The Zora King looked down at him with a hint of pain in his eyes. No doubt, his appearance after one hundred years brought to surface old wounds that had never properly healed. Certainly, he was a constant reminder of just what the Domain had lost.

While he knew not the circumstances surrounding his memory of her, he knew that somehow, Mipha's death was his fault. He had let her go off towards that beast, knowing full well what would have happened to her.

It was up to him to make things right.

"We know this is a great task we are asking you to do," Prince Sidon continued, "Please know that I will help, in anyway that I can."

"It's the only way to save the Princess," Link whispered.

"The Princess," the King's eyes grew wide, "You mean Princess Zelda? She's still alive?"

"Yeah," Link affirmed, remembering that sweet beautiful delicious glow emanating from the castle, "She's been holding Ganon captive all this time in Hyrule Castle."

"I don't believe it," the King sank back in his throne, "She has been alive this whole time, just as you were. Well that certainly changes things. There could be rebuilding… _reunification_."

"Which can only happen when Vah Ruta is free," Link interjected, "Where can I find these shock arrows to use against the beast?"

"That's the tricky part, I…" the King trailed off, his eyes locking on a figure behind Link, "Oh wonderful, bring it here," the advisor brought forth a parcel to the King, before backing out quietly, "This is something that was crafted for you, one hundred years ago, by my daughter Mipha. Traditionally, the Princess would give this to her betrothal. Though it may be inappropriate to give it to you now, given the circumstances, it was weaved with her very scales, which still hold special properties you might find useful. That, and I do think she would still want for you to have it."

Link opened the parcel, and inside was blue and silver armor. It hardly looked like it had been crafted a century prior. Rather, it looked as though the final stitches had been tied off just that morning. The inner layer was a mesh – form fitting – and the outer layer was adorned with red and blue scales, alternating down the sides and shining purple in the light.

"It's skillfully crafted," Link murmured, his fingers tracing the scales along the sides, "What does it do?"

"It allows you to ascend waterfalls like a Zora when wearing it," the King replied, "Considering the next bit of information I'm about to tell you, I think you'll find it most useful."

"How so?" Link asked, that same dreadful feeling building in his stomach.

"I had tasked Muzu with finding the shock arrows needed to appease Vah Ruta, and the results were not promising," the King said, "They are a Gerudo good, and we had ceased all trading with them about eighty years ago. As for finding them out in the wild, as I'm sure you saw, the way here is littered with Lizalfos, who take a liking to these arrows. However, they are far and few between, and would take much too long to gather."

"Is there other option?" Link asked.

He gestured one clawed fin noncommittally, "At the highest peak within the Domain – Ploymus Mountain – there is a plateau of land called Shatterback Point. A terrifying creature has made its home there. The awful beast shoots volley after volley of shock arrows. Even a single one is fatal to a Zora. However, this would be the best place to collect these arrows."

"You must mean that Lynel," Prince Sidon's eyes widened, "He is a man-beast, that one. However, I must agree with my father. That would be the best place in the Domain to collect these arrows. There's an old saying in Hyrule that a Lynel's power comes from its level of anger. You would do best to be careful up there."

Link nodded, gripping the Zora armor as he made to leave, "I will not fail."

* * *

Trudging up the cliffs of Upload Zorana had been the easy part.

Link knelt, his sweat and the humidity plastering his bangs against his forehead, as he pressed himself flat against a boulder. He was trying to quiet his breathing, trying to get the Lynel off his scent so he could continue to collect the shock arrows lying about. He found it easy – child's play, really – to become one with the shadows, to disappear within plain sight. However, he was out of practice, and he must have stepped on a twig or something, must have breathed too hard – must have groaned too loud when his ribs spasmed just a little too violently. Now, the Lynel was on high alert, stalking him: tracking him.

Upon taking one look at the red Lynel, Link knew that he had faced these beasts before. But he also knew that these beasts fought back _hard,_ and though no memory accompanied it, he could feel the twinge of a raised, white scar on his leg. Lynels didn't mess around, and while Link felt he would win the battle, he wasn't sure if he would be walking away from it, or dragging himself away from it. Thus, he had kept to the shadows, crossing when the beast wasn't looking, and collecting arrows all the while.

Then, the Lynel's neck had snapped towards him, and Link had flattened himself against the side of the rock. Whatever it was that had alerted him, Link knew that he wouldn't stop until he found his prey.

Link knew he could try to hide – like a coward, he thought bitterly, but an alive one at that – or he could attack while he still had the element of surprise on his hand. The beast knew something was there, but he didn't know what, or precisely where it was. No doubt, a well-placed arrow would stun the beast, and give Link the precious few seconds he needed to charge at the beast with his sword.

Yes, that did seem to be the best course of action at this point.

Thus, as silent as the night, Link crept through the shadows. He pulled out his bow and nocked an arrow, wishing that he could spare a shock arrow or two for this beast. He waited until the beast turned in profile towards him – not looking at him but giving him a clear shot. He waited, feeling the wind tickle his face before he let the arrow loose.

_Ping._

The Lynel stumbled back, its roar shaking the very foundations of the mountain. Link wasted no time, unsheathing his Windcleaver and leaping towards the beast from the shadows. He held the claymore with two hands, using his momentum to power the first blow.

He ran the sword from shoulder to torso, feeling the Lynel resist as its roar pierced his eardrums. He flipped backwards, narrowly missing a swipe from a clawed paw.

He balked at the sight before him.

The gash he had inflicted on the Lynel was no more than a scratch.

And now, the Lynel was just plain angry.

Shit.

The Lynel geared forward on all fours, and Link had only a moment to process the situation before instinct took over and he dove out of the way. He tucked his sword underneath him, feeling the ground shake with the intensity of the Lynel's tumbling. Link raised his sword, pitifully parrying an attack from the most massively savage sword he had ever seen. The force of it sent shockwaves up and down Link's arms, and he had to wonder which was worse: the shock from the arrows or the shock from the sword?

He wouldn't have to wonder for much longer, for the beast pulled out his bow next, nocking three shock arrows and aiming towards him. Link wasn't sure if he would be able to avoid all three, but he sure as hell was going to try. He pulled out his shield – some old travelers shield he had picked off of some poor merchant's corpse – and held it up, blocking two of the arrows while one veered off track.

So far, so good, but Link knew he wouldn't get anywhere if he stayed on the defensive. He pulled out a bomb from his Sheikah Slate, and threw it as a distraction towards the Lynel. The beast took the bait, and with a timed detonation, the beast was sent flying.

Link nocked another arrow – two – three – four – and sent them flying, accuracy be damned. All he needed was one to hit its target, and then he could go in with his claymore again. As it was, one landed true in the Lynel's thigh, and he roared.

But in the next second, the beast fucking pulled the thin arrow _out_ of its own thigh, snapping it in half in its massive paws.

The second time the beast charged at him, Link was not ready.

Link was sent flying across the peak, smacking into the rocky outcrop with a resounding crack. He gasped, the air knocked out of his lungs as he struggled to his feet. The Lynel was approaching him slowly, as though deliberately deciding just what he wanted to do next. Link knew that he could use this to his advantage if he played it weak, before striking forward for the kill.

Indeed, as suspected, the beast approached within just a few feet of Link, waving its Savage Lynel Sword lazily in its hand. Link knew he had but a second if he were to do this right.

And if he didn't… well, at least it would be over quickly.

He lunged forward, striking the Lynel clean through the gut with his Windcleaver. The Beast roared, before swiping at him again with one massive paw. White-hot agony flooded his senses as he stumbled backwards, gripping his side. He could feel blood begin to ooze out of the wound, but it was no matter. The Lynel would be dead soon.

Of course, the Lynel had other ideas.

The beast ripped Link's Windcleaver from its stomach, stepping forward as though that was not a killing wound. Link could see its eyes were beginning to dull; it was just a matter of time yet.

Yet still: the beast lunged at Link, intending to bring Link down with it.

_Link feels the Lynel's hot breath as it looms over him, the Savage Lynel Sword in its upwards swing, ready to come crashing down, down, down, until it slices cleanly through Link's neck._

_Desperate times call for desperate measures, and in the next second, Link reaches into his quiver for an arrow – any arrow – and rolls forward to plunge the shaft of the arrow into the beast's heart._

Link was dazed from the memory, overlapping the silver Lynel from his mind with the red one in front of him. However, muscle memory had yet to fail him, and he reached back into his quiver for a shock arrow, and plunged it through the Lynel's heart much like he had done before.

_The beast shakes as the arrow is lodged deeper and deeper, its Savage Lynel Sword clattering off to the side. In holding the arrow firmly to the beast's chest, Link feels the residual effects from the electric shock coursing through his veins, though he thinks not to let go. Not until the beast is still and cold and dead._

_He has his wish in the next moment, as the beast teeters off towards the left, landing on the ground in a huge heap. Around him, the remains of the monsters lay, their black blood pooling and beginning to smell rotten._

Link shook his head, the memory fading as the silver Lynel was replaced with the red one before him, the black blood surrounding him replaced with red blood, bright and shining from the blood moon shining overhead.

Wait – blood moon?

He stood up on wobbly legs, clutching his side as he stared up at the blood moon, which was oozing in the night sky. The wind began to pick up around him, carrying a scent so vile, it made Link cover his nose and want to gag. The moon radiated something so vicious that it threatened to burn him alive. Wisps of it began to coat the air around him, the air turning thick and inhospitable.

Yet still, he found himself leaning towards it – found his body itching towards it, his pores begging to soak up the wisps with the promise that it entailed.

But before he could ponder this revelation further, he was interrupted, the Princess's voice ringing in his ears.

"Link…" she whispered, from above him, below him, _all around him_ , "Be on your guard."

The malice began to swirl through the air, like a vicious cyclone. Link covered his eyes, his eyes stinging and tears leaking out as the malice burned and melted all around him.

"Ganon's power grows," she continued, "It rises to its peak under the power of the blood moon…"

The wounds inflicted on the Lynel began to sow back together, morphing into some grotesque plasma before all that was left was unmarred skin.

"By its glow, the aimless spirits of monsters slain in the name of the light return to flesh…"

Then, a pair of eyes burst open, shining an angry blood red under the light of the moon. Its eyes fixed on him, as the beast staggered onto rehabilitated limbs, as Link struggled to wheeze in a single breath.

"Please be careful, Link."

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always knew I wanted to introduce the Blood Moon to Link in this story – except instead of it being on the side working for him, I wanted him to be at its mercy. Much like Zelda would have been. Writing the fight scene was SO FUN. 1,500 words flew by like that!
> 
> I'm keeping us moving and grooving along the storyline of the main quest. I could spend all day in Zora's Domain, talking every side quest and every character, but we don't have time! Whereas with King Rhoam's speech I kept 80% of and added in additional dialogue, for Link's introduction to Sidon and the King, I watched the scenes and then retold the story in a way to make it more streamlined. Cut out Sidon hounding Link along the Zora River, and combined the scene with the King and the scene with Muzu to make it more concise. Did the memory sequence before meeting the King (honestly, I liked this more?) and had the King give Link the quest to go to Ploymus Mountain.
> 
> I hadn't intended to have Link be so mournful of Mipha… but I think it offers an interesting dichotomy of her feelings before calamity and after calamity. Without knowledge of his prior allegiances, Link still feels a lot of the same urges, but he doesn't have the same mindset to hate Mipha as much as he did before. He can see right from wrong, he isn't immune to it, but he definitely picks and chooses what he gets to be mournful about. I also wanted to get this dynamic going for a later plot bit. Let me know if this hits home?
> 
> Our memories in this chapter are from chapters 18 and 10 of Treacherous Intentions, respectively! Of course, there's always small bits that Link doesn't quite recall that are alluded to, such as the raised white scar on the back of his leg from the Lynel on that very same mountain a century prior (alluded to in Chapter 4, during summers in Zora's Domain).
> 
> Anyways, I love you all! Drop a comment if you feel so inclined, and I'll see you all next week!


	6. Chapter 6

Link staggered, clutching his side as he heard the red Lynel behind him crash into the ground. He didn't have to look behind him to know that the Lynel was dead – twice over, now. In his final burst of energy, he had thrust the blade of his Windcleaver into the Lynel's heart, and saw the light leave the beast's eyes through the black dots shrouding his vision.

Now, that same blade hung at his side, dragging along the ground, as Link limped towards one of the boulders in the outcrop. The moon was beginning to lower in the sky, boiling red, and shining off his blade in a bright scarlet with the Lynel's blood? His blood?

His blood was trailing down his arm and side, bubbling through his fingertips.

He stumbled next to the boulder, gasping as his back seized from the contact. ThatBlood Moon… he had been beaten up pretty good the first time he killed the beast, but then that Princess – that disembodied, fucking _bitch_ – had to whisper in his ear, waste what precious seconds he had, only to tell him that he would need to fight this monster _again_ in order to get those stupid shock arrows.

Link wasn't a fool – he knew there was a fine line between courage and recklessness.

And yet it was clear that the Princess made him reckless.

He pulled his pack out from behind him with bloodied fingers. His mind was buzzing, his head foggy, his fingers tingling, his heart pounding. He had nothing – absolutely nothing on his person that could help him stop the bleeding. It had never occurred to him to keep gauze or bandages on him, even as he fought monsters left and right. He had always been good – better – the best. Always coming out on top, with hardly a scratch as his opponents hit the ground cold and dead.

Yet here he was: rock bottom, at the peak of Ploymus Mountain, bleeding out in the light of the Blood Moon, with not another living soul for miles.

He had to wonder at what point he went wrong.

He pulled out his old shirt – the one from that damned shrine. It was all he had, and it would have to do. He ripped the fabric with his teeth, gasping as his side was jostled and managed to create a long strip. He dressed the wound with the rest of it, slowly tying it off and praying to whatever was out there that he had done a good enough job. He knew this was the worst of it: there were a couple scratches here and there, and a gash on his head, but none of it worried him too much. A couple of ribs were broken, he thought as he lifted himself off of the cold, dampened ground, but it was nothing he couldn't grit his teeth through.

Now, there was the question of how he was going to get back to the Domain.

He had travelled up the waterfalls – courtesy of the Zora armor, but he didn't think that was a viable option anymore. There was always the option to warp back down – he had activated the shrine beneath the silver city offhandedly before he left. His stomach twisted as he thought about his last venture with the Sheikah Slate. Finally, he supposed he could just glide back down to the Domain. He was at the highest point above Zora's Domain – he ventured he could make it there in one piece. Testing his arms and shoulders, they felt good – good enough, at least. His biggest concern was the stretch on his side as he soared down.

He wasn't left with too many options. It was just going to have to do.

He hobbled over towards the edge of the cliff, collecting the last few shock arrows while mumbling under his breath. Gingerly, he pulled his paraglider out of his pack, testing his grip. Looking down, he nearly reeled back, realizing just how high up he was. This wasn't some measly jump from the Great Plateau or from the top of a tower. This was a jump from the peak of a _mountain._ One slip of the hand would be all it took for him to go toppling down to his certain death.

He had already died once. He would be damned if he died again.

He sucked in a breath, gathering his courage – and then jumped.

The way down was a blur of startling silver and brilliant violet: the Domain glistening in the light of the moon. The glow from the Luminous Stones ebbed and flowed, a gentle beacon to guide him as he was pulled in. It hadn't taken long for him to pull himself together. He couldn't chance the Zora seeing him weak. They would think he wasn't strong enough to tame the Divine Beast.

As Link landed on a small platform within the Domain, sharp pains radiated up his legs. He stumbled to the ground, gasping as he fell on his side. His paraglider scattered away from him, just out of reach. He thought to just lay there for a while, wheezing as his need to catch his breath and his need to breathe gingerly clashed. For a second, he thought to brush it off and put on a brave front: if anyone saw him like this, they would think him weak. However, it was past midnight – the likelihood that anyone would be awake at this hour was slim to none.

But oh: if only he were so lucky.

"Link!" Prince Sidon's high tenor carried over the soft murmur of the waterfalls. Two webbed hands grasped his shoulders before he could move onto his feet. He was propped up against the wall, and instantly, his vision was filled with Royal Trout, "Link! You're bleeding, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Link grumbled, swatting away the Prince's hands and moving to stand up. The Prince, however, was firm.

"We should get you some help," he whispered, "You're badly injured. Did you manage to kill the Lynel?"

"Twice," Link couldn't help the small grin that bubbled on his face, "I killed him twice."

Prince Sidon nodded, his eyes hard, "The Blood Moon," he whispered, "That's bad timing. And rotten luck, my friend."

"But I got the arrows," Link muttered, pulling out his quiver from his pack, "I'm ready to board Vah Ruta."

"No, you are not," Prince Sidon said, looping one webbed hand under Link's shoulders and hoisting him up. Link stumbled as his cheek fell into the Prince's shoulder. Prince Sidon's grip tightened, "We're going to have one of our healers take a look at you. Though I daresay none of them are nearly as talented as my sister once was. Sadly, many of the advancements she spearheaded in healing died along with her."

Link wobbled alongside the Prince, clutching his side and hanging onto his every word, "She… she was a healer?"

"The best, in fact," Prince Sidon whispered, as he steered Link off towards an alcove east of the throne room, "She took to it at a young age and advanced even further than our greatest masters. And if you thought she was good at healing, then you should have seen her with a spear…"

* * *

The Divine Beast had not been pleased when the two of them arrived at the reservoir. Link and Prince Sidon had left the healers as the sun was just beginning to crest over the horizon. The Prince was right: the healers in the Domain were certainly not as talented as Mipha once was. Though Link had no way to compare that, he just knew. His side now only ached at a dull roar, and though he wasn't one hundred percent sure, he knew that had Mipha healed him, there would have hardly been a scar in its place.

Link climbed onto the Prince's back, and together, they soared out towards the beast in the East Reservoir Lake. As they approached the beast, getting closer and closer, Link couldn't help but gasp. These Divine Beasts were truly called the Four Great Relics for a reason. The beast was in the shape of an archaic animal, with its long, great snout spewing an endless supply of water into the bursting reservoir.

The beast sensed their arrival and roared, an earsplitting scream, and Link could feel its anger reverberating throughout his bones. Along each side of the beast were massive waterfalls, cascading down into the reservoir.

Prince Sidon inclined his head, "See those orbs?" Link nodded, "I can get us close to those waterfalls there, and then using the Zora armor, you can swim up the waterfalls much like you did to reach Ploymus Mountain."

Link nodded, his side twitching.

"Once you make it to the top of the waterfall, you'll have but a second to shoot the orbs with one of the shock arrows. Be careful not to miss."

As they got closer to the beast, Vah Ruta went on the offensive. From its sides came massive blocks of ice that looked startlingly familiar. Immediately, Link recalled that ice as being the same as the ice from his cryonis rune. It wasn't surprising – the Divine Beasts and the Sheikah Slate were both made by the ancient Sheikah: both made to work alongside each other. With Sidon's careful maneuvering in the reservoir and Link's perfect aim at the blocks of ice, it was simple – child's play, really – to make their way to each of the four waterfalls.

By the time Link shot the fourth orb, he was soaking wet, his eyes bright, and felt a tingle of electric shock coursing through his veins. But with the shot of the fourth orb, the beast roared, collapsing into the water, subdued at last.

"My friend, you did it!" Prince Sidon exclaimed, as they slowly approached the beast, "The water spouting from Ruta has slowed down!"

"There's no time to waste," Link said, "Now we just need to board it."

"I think our window of opportunity is closing," the Prince whispered, moving in closer to the beast as Vah Ruta began to ease out of the water, "I'll bring you closer. We are counting on you, Link. Do good work in there."

"Are you not coming with me?" Link asked, surprised. Though he much preferred not being in the Prince's presence, he had been under the impression that it was not up for debate.

"I should think not," Prince Sidon whispered, and though Link could only see his profile, there was a sadness there that was not present before, "That beast is my sister's tomb. For one hundred years, she has been stuck in there, alone. It would not do me any good to see what became of her in there."

Link nodded, an aching feeling settling in his gut, "I understand."

"She had a trident though," Prince Sidon whispered, a small smile lifting the corners of his lips, "It's one of the few things I remember about her, if I'm perfectly honest. The Lightscale Trident. If you find it, could you bring it back to the Domain? It would mean a lot to my people."

Link nodded, the words dry on his tongue, "I will."

"Good," the Prince said, as they approached the ascending platform, "Well Link, here we are. Looks like this is where the real work starts. Best of luck."

Link climbed off, turning around to face the Prince. He had an unreadable look on his face, and Link could practically hear him thinking of what words to say next.

"Show the enemy no fear. Avenge Mipha. Finish the job." Prince Sidon gazed up at the beast, and for the first time, the charismatic prince's façade cracked. Link saw a Zora held in unfathomable regards that had lived in the shadow of his sister's death for over a century. And yet, even with all this, he had hardly a memory to his name about her.

It was something that the two of them had in common, it seemed.

"I'll see you back in Zora's Domain," Prince Sidon nodded, grasping his shoulder, before turning to swim away, "Farewell."

In a flash, the Zora Prince was gone, out of sight, with only the rippling waters from the reservoir as proof that he had been there at all.

Which left Link utterly alone once again.

The platform rose, lifting higher and higher into the sky. Link shivered, bits of ice still lingering in his hair from their fight with the beast.

The entrance to the Great Relic beckoned him forward, its shadowy wisps pulling him in, with a promise on the wind that they would make him stronger – make him more powerful. He shook his head, shrugging off the notion as he approached a familiar pedestal, with a familiar and menacing Sheikah eye staring back at him.

Link approached the pedestal, swiping the slate across it.

"You're here."

The voice was soft, beautiful: a promise in every syllable. Much like the Princess of Hyrule, her voice came from all around, beside him, behind him, _everywhere._ Except instead, her voice filled him with dreams and stories. His mind filled with fragments of memory: of the foam from the waves dissipating – of smiles cast gently from across the river.

Of sweet summers spent with a childhood friend. His heart ached.

"Mipha…"

"I must say," she whispered, and he could hear the smile bursting from her lips, "that I am so happy to see that this day has finally arrived. Now, Ruta can be freed of Ganon's control."

"Tell me what I need to do?" Link asked, his eyes searching for a hint of red and silver but knowing deep down he would find none, "Where are you? Can I see you?"

"I'm afraid not," she said, sadly, "for Ganon is still in control of Ruta, I cannot be free. There is a Guidance Stone within. It will contain the information that you will need to take back Ruta."

Link nodded, as her voice dissipated before dissolving into the ominous hum coming from the beast. Link took in a breath, before stepping into the beast.

From there, it wasn't long before he found the Guidance Stone, just past the entrance. Then, activating the beast was simple enough. The beast was flooded with water and something else: a sticky, oozing substance Mipha referred to as _malice._ Guardians also patrolled the beast – he had noted with a small pang of fear in his gut – but they were smaller than the ones out in the wild, and lacked the same durability. With but a few swings of his Windcleaver, they were dispatched, and Link travelled further into the dark shadows of the beast.

There were five terminals he had to activate before making his way back to the bottom to the main corridor. The Guidance Stone had downloaded a map onto his slate, which allowed him to control some of the mechanisms. Indeed, most of the terminals were accessed in conjunction with the slate.

Following the fifth terminal, Link made his way back to the bottom of the beast, where the main control room was. He had passed it on his way up, the room glowing a malicious magenta, and the control panel beckoning him forward. As he stepped inside, the air grew stale, and time seemed to freeze. The wisps of malice were stronger in this room – more saturated. Each breath he took in was more difficult than the last. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled, and he whipped around, expecting to see something but being met with empty air.

Then, a sliver of white caught his eye.

He turned slowly, facing the wall closest to the control panel. There, shoved up against the wall lay a pile of pearl white bones: a dusty, withered skeleton with specs of silver and gemstones glistening around it.

And just off to its side lay a pristine triton, adorned in jewels.

_Mipha…_

He fell to his knees, his head buzzing and his skin numb and he looked on, his eyes wide in abject horror. He had known she was dead – he had remembered sending her off to certain death with a wave and a smile. And yet still, the sight of her now caused the walls of the beast to slowly close in on him, caused his breath to shorten, caused his vision to turn red until he couldn't see one inch in front of him.

He didn't remember slamming the Sheikah Slate down on the control panel. He remembered even less of the fight with the blight of Ganon that had taken refuge inside it. The blight was a bastardized permutation of Sheikah technology and malice – with a Guardian's laser for an eye, ancient spears for arms, and a wild mane of blood red hair. Link's heart was pounding in his ears, his Windcleaver splitting the air in two as he fought the scourge – evading its blasts of frigid, malice-infested water left and right.

One thing, however, stood out from all the rest: and that was the white-hot burning along his back. A drop of steaming malice had hit his shoulder and burned through his tunic. However, despite the pain and the smell of burning flesh, there was a hint of power there: a promise of something more if he just gave in and seized it: accepted it. It could make him stronger.

But in a single flash of clarity, and a desperate cry from Mipha, he shook his head, sliding down along his side in the shallow waters. The malice hissed as it dissolved away from his skin, and with it, the promise of power and glory.

He defeated the blight with one final fire arrow to its pulsing blue plasma eye. The scourge shrieked, its scream cutting deep through Link's mind and bringing him back to the present. He was not sure that he breathed during the fight. He couldn't have, for once the beast disappeared in a flash of smoke and dissipated malice, Link knelt there, sucking each breath deep into his lungs, as though he could not get enough.

Then, a voice.

"Link."

Her voice was soft – a mere whisper, and yet equally as pressing. He turned to his right to see _her_ , smiling benevolently at him. Her sweet golden eyes crinkled at the edges, her lips turned upwards in a small, sad smile.

"Mipha," her name slipped off his tongue like a prayer, as his legs trudged through the shallow waters towards her, before he stopped, a cold pang in his gut.

She was just as he remembered her. Except now, she floated above the water, her skin translucent, as faded green will-o'-the-wisps danced around her ankles, much like the Old Man's had at the Temple of Time.

It only confirmed the cold, hard truth that Mipha was dead.

"Mipha…" he whispered again, his voice laced in dread as she took him in.

"Because of your courage, my spirit is now free," she whispered, "and Ruta as well."

"No, no, no," Link muttered, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. Tears sprung from his eyes, dampening his gloves, "It wasn't supposed to be this way."

"It's okay," Mipha whispered, taking a final step towards him, and placing an ethereal hand on his shoulder. This close, he could almost imagine the feel of her hand, "For I am now allowed by this freedom to be with you once again."

Link shook his head, unable to meet her gaze, "I watched you go, Mipha," he said in a thick voice, "I watched you go, knowing you were going to die."

"I know," she whispered, another ghostly hand bringing his face towards hers. Though it held no weight, he still felt he couldn't look away, "I knew, too. I knew that my fate was tied with Ruta's. It was the way things were meant to be."

"That's not good enough," Link hissed, desperately trying to grasp her hand on his face but only grasping his own cheek. She smiled sadly, "There must be some way to undo this. There must be some way to bring you back."

"Sadly, there is no way to undo what has been done," Mipha said, taking a step back from Link, "But I hope you all can take comfort in the fact that Ruta and I are not in pain anymore, and we are now free from Ganon's control. Since I am now a spirit, my healing power would be wasted on me. I have no need of it, now. So therefore, I would like you to have it. I am hoping that it could bring you some comfort, and some peace," she smiled, then, her hands coming together in a prayer, "Please call upon my grace whenever you need."

A pool of energy formed at her fingertips, and much like the Monks had within the shrines, she pushed it forward, before it sprung across the chasm and dissolved into Link's chest.

The effect was instantaneous. Link felt a coolness wash over him, one that Zora healers tried to mimic but came nowhere near. He was now acutely aware of his wounds from his fight with the blight, as he felt the pain dissipate until there was nothing at all.

Now, not even the wounds from the Lynel on the mountain throbbed in pain. The Zora healer had shoddily healed them down in the Domain, and now, it showed. Not only were his physical wounds remedied, but he also felt a strange sort of calmness – a soothing contentedness that had not been present before.

He looked on at Mipha with a new look on his face: resolve.

Mipha was dead. There was nothing he could do to change that. And that was okay.

"Yesterday, I was awash in a pool of tears. I had nearly given up hope, and resigned myself to being trapped here, as a spirit, for the rest of eternity."

"I'm sorry I took so long."

"But now you're here," Mipha said, her smile reaching her cheeks, "and that's all that matters. All this time, my hope was to see you once more."

"Your father," Link began, licking his lips, as he chose what words to use, "He had told me that you were to propose to me."

"Yes," she whispered, her eyes drifting down to the Zora armor he wore, "It fits you perfectly, still. I'm glad you could find use for it."

She paused, her eyes thoughtful and foreign, "I must ask… Father… is he well, I wonder?"

Link nodded, "He is. He misses you greatly, that much is clear. Sidon too."

Mipha sucked in a shaky gasp, "I wish I could see them again… even just once more. If you could please, tell him this from me: that I always followed my heart. He will know what it means. Tell him I'm sorry I made him worry. Tell him I'm sorry I couldn't say goodbye… and tell Sidon I'm so proud of him," she reached behind her, grasping her trident that had fallen with her a century prior, "If you would, give him my trident. He's gone through so much, and… it's the least I can do."

"I will," Link promised, taking the trident in a feather light touch. Indeed, it was lighter than he had anticipated, but the silver was still sturdy, even after one hundred years.

A pause. He had to ask her.

"Mipha…"

Link stepped forward, his eyes wide as he struggled to get the words out, "I don't remember much from before… but… did I… did I love you?"

She was silent for a long moment, choosing her words, "At the time, I had thought so. However… there's a certain level of clairvoyance in the spirit realm. Things are much clearer in retrospect from my life than they had been while I was alive. We grew apart after your mother's death and… well, if you did love me, it was not in the same way that I had loved you."

"Oh," Link finally settled on, "I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for," Mipha pressed, "It's simply what it is, and in the grand scheme of things, everything had to happen the way it did. For only now are we able to annihilate Ganon together."

"What will you do, now that you are free?"

"Ruta and I have our roles to fulfill. We are both honored to play the role of support. Our job will be to help you as you fight Ganon inside the castle… however we can. If we seal him away, then we can restore peace to Hyrule."

"I will not fail," Link murmured, gripping her trident in a white-knuckled grasp. He felt her spirit in her trident, sensed her, and if he closed his eyes, he could feel himself falling backwards, losing in a spar against her in their youth.

"I know you won't," She nodded, her hand trailing upwards, a sweet silver magic trailing from it, "It's time for you to head back to the Domain. Promise me that you will never hesitate to call upon my power if you ever find yourself in need. Knowing that will let my spirit rest in peace."

"I promise," Link whispered, feeling the magic swirl around him, as the sight of Mipha slowly began to fade away. He committed her face to memory.

"Until we meet again…" Mipha whispered, until he could see nothing but sweet silver, "Save her, Link. Save the Princess."

* * *

In the next moment, Link landed on shaking legs back in the Domain. He faltered, testing his balance as he looked around, bewildered by the sun casting gentle rays down into the Domain. It was no longer raining, it seemed. In fact, there was not a cloud in the sky. Pink skies were visible from every direction.

It was the dawn of a new day.

Off in the distance, a great roar pierced through the air, shaking the very foundations of the Domain. Vah Ruta: no longer under the influence of Ganon's malice, but instead under the gentle hand of the Zora Princess.

And in his hands was her Lightscale Trident, its jewels and silver shining brilliantly in the early morning sun for the first time in a century.

"Link!"

Prince Sidon was running up to him, much closer than he anticipated. He only then realized that the Prince had been calling his name for quite some time now. As the Prince got closer, he suddenly stopped, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of his sister's trident.

"The Lightscale Trident…" Prince Sidon murmured, before his face broke out in a huge grin. Before Link could protest, the Prince swept him up in a bone-crushing hug, "My friend, you did it! You appeased Ruta!" Then, a pause, and Link was quickly placed back on the ground. Link stumbled, "So… does that mean…?"

Link nodded, his gaze settling back in the direction of the beast, "You were right not wanting to go in there. There were some things that you would have been better off without seeing."

Her dusty, withered skeleton.

"I saw Mipha's spirit," Link continued, "I think this is something both you and your father should hear."

"My sister…" Prince Sidon breathed, "Of course. We'll go see my father at once."

They arrived up in the throne room. From the center of the room, King Dorephan looked down upon him with wide, unreadable eyes. Link held out the Lightscale Trident to him.

"My daughter's trident," the King whispered, "My boy, we heard Ruta's call just now. Does that mean…"

"It's done," Link whispered, "Vah Ruta is no longer under Ganon's influence. Your daughter's spirit is now free."

"It would have been naïve of me to believe that my daughter would have survived all that time," King Dorephan lamented, "Yet still: a father can only hope. I held the smallest shred of hope that when you returned, she would have been accompanying you."

"She misses you," Link said, "She wishes that she could see you once more."

"You spoke with her spirit?" King Dorephan balked, "What did my daughter tell you?"

Link took in a breath, shifting his shoulders back, "She said she's sorry that she made you worry… and she's sorry she never got to say goodbye," a pause, "and… she wanted me to tell you that she always followed her heart, to the very end."

It was silent in the throne room, and Link risked looking up at the King. King Dorephan was misty eyed, shaking as he struggled to keep his tears at bay, "That's all I ever wanted for her," he said in a thick voice, "That's something her mother and I said to her, ever since she was a little guppy. It brings me joy to hear you say that."

Link nodded, before turning towards the Prince, "She wanted me to tell you how proud of you she is… and she wants for you to have her trident."

Wordlessly, Prince Sidon took his sister's trident from Link, "It is the highest honor," he murmured, "to gift another Zora your trident. I will not disappoint her."

"Thank you for your service to Zora's Domain," King Dorephan proclaimed, "The Divine Beast has been a plague upon our lands for the last one hundred years. I must ask, my dear boy. What do you plan to do next?"

"I have to free the other three Divine Beasts," Link said, immediately, "and I have to save the Princess. It's the only way to regain my memory."

"Should you ever have need in your journey, know that the Zora will always come to your aid," King Dorephan bowed his head, "Farewell, Hero."

As Link left the Domain, the horror and sorrow from that day fully washed over him. He fetched Epona from the stables, setting her off into a canter along the now deserted Zora River. Only then, away from the eyes of the Zora did he allow a lone tear to fall from his eyes, in light of what he could not remember.

And then, that sadness shifted as he shook his head, pushing the heightened emotions and memories of that day far, far down.

He turned that sadness into something more tangible, something he could use.

He turned that sadness into rage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends. A quick thing: I'm taking a break from this project for a bit. No more than a month or so, I think. My next update for this will probably be October 3rd. The last few weeks I've been staring at my screen with absolutely zero motivation (even though I know exactly what needs to happen next). Not only that, but the US is in chaos (as you know) and it's tough to focus. I might bust out a one-shot in the mean time, and you may see me participate in Whumptober on Tumblr and AO3.
> 
> Anyways, I love this story, and I love this AU. I'll be back on my bullshit soon!


	7. Chapter 7

Link was lost.

He sighed, rubbing his face with the palm of his hand, as he rode slowly on Epona across a long eroded cobble bridge. This road was supposed to take him through the Maw of Death Mountain – not through some serene wooded countryside. It had looked like the right way: the path was leading north, towards the bursting, active volcano taking up half of the sky. But then, the path had veered to the east, and suddenly he hadn't been riding toward the volcano, but alongside it. The air was mild and breezy, not burning and inhospitable.

His skin was supposed to be burning, damn it.

His pack was heavy. He had run into a traveller along the road to Eldin. Upon the revelation that he had not prepared any elixirs or had any protective equipment, the nosy merchant had hounded him, claiming that he must have been stupid for even thinking of going into Goron City without it.

His blood had boiled at his words. He wasn't stupid.

Thus he spent the next afternoon collecting bugs and slaying monsters to come up with his best attempt at a fiery potion. Upon completion, however, they were weak, impotent, and the taste of them was enough to make him gag.

Alas, it was what had to be done. But now, here he was, in some Goddess-damned part of the country, _not_ on the right road into Goron City, with a pack of damn near useless elixirs. He began to wonder where he could get a proper map, since he had to dive into each region to extract the regional map on the Sheikah Slate. The Slate had its times where it was useful. But he found that most of the time, it was just a glorified slab of rock.

Link growled under his breath, noticing the leaves changing colors around him to dull oranges and brilliant reds. This was definitely not Death Mountain. Everything here was alive.

Just as he was about to turn back around to find another path, a spire caught his eye. Link squinted, as they approached another bridge. It was reminiscent of Hyrule Castle, though he knew that it couldn't be: Hyrule Castle was behind them, with swirling wisps of malice encasing it. This structure had none of that. Curiosity got the best of him.

He gasped, his eyes being drawn upwards as a magnificent citadel swarmed his vision. Epona's hooves beneath him began to clack against the ground – a stone bridge. Civilization. Around him lay the wasted hills overgrown with grass and weeds. In his minds eye, he could see soldiers training tirelessly day after day.

 _The Akkala Citadel._ Somehow, the name of the structure came to him instantly, and though no memory came with the revelation, he knew that he had been there.

_Her horse is beside his, white and pristine. She sits atop of him, her long, blonde locks cascading down her back. As they pass under a canopy of tall, luscious trees, she sighs._

" _I used to spend summers here," the Princess murmurs, almost inaudible, "in Akkala – with mother. We would stay within the Akkala Citadel at night, and then venture out into the wilderness during the day. She was always a bit more lax with me than father was."_

_Link grunts in response, and the Princess takes that as an invitation to continue._

" _She was the first that took me to the Spring of Power."_

The Spring of Power. That name stirred something from deep within him, and he knew that he had been there. More importantly, he knew that he had been there with the Princess.

Perhaps this excursion into Akkala had not been a waste of his time after all.

He turned his gaze back towards the Citadel, and caught sight of one of those damned towers, having carved its way through the Hylian architecture. His fingers reached blindly for the slate, his mind calculating. If he managed to make it to the top of the tower, he could get the map for this region. With any luck, the Spring of Power would be marked on it.

Luckier still, the spring would be visible from the top of the tower.

He spurred Epona onwards, making his way towards a bridge leading to the Citadel.

Or was. Where Link expected a bridge was open air. The bridge had long since been destroyed.

And just before it was a Hylian.

Link's blood rushed in his ears, and he found himself reaching for his blade. The last time he had encountered another Hylian, _alone,_ out in the wilderness, it had been an assassin that had tried to kill him. Though this Hylian looked unassuming, Link could tell even from his distance that the man was wearing steel plate armor. Link caught the glint of a blade across his back.

He dismounted, but approached cautiously.

"Excuse me," Link called out, his voice rough and foreign to his ears. It had been a couple days since he had seen that traveler on the road. He really didn't make it a habit of speaking to people unless needed to.

The Hylian turned around, his eyes wide, and though Link wasn't one hundred percent certain, he had a feeling that this man wasn't a threat. He was tall and lanky, his eyes bulging out in surprise at the newcomer. He moved awkwardly, the steel plates clanking around his chest. Link's shoulder's loosened.

"Are you here to pay respects to your ancestors too?" The man asked, his eyes trailing back to the Citadel, "Well, we've both got bad luck it seems. The bridge has entirely collapsed. Can't say I'm surprised – most of this place is just barely standing."

"Is there no other way to the Citadel?" Link asked.

The man's head nocked to the side, "There's a path over there. I bet it was once overflown with water. But I wouldn't suggest it."

"Why not?"

A lanky finger pointed upwards towards the Citadel, and Link felt his blood run cold, "Those Guardian Stalkers there. Yeah, I just about had the same reaction when I first saw them. They'll burn you to a crisp if you get too close. I like living, so I think I'll just pay my respects from a distance. Name's Nell, by the way."

Link nodded, weighing his options. While it was preferable for him to get the map for the region, the last thing he wanted to do was make his way up against a Guardian – and so far, Link had spotted four of them patrolling. The scent of rain and burnt skin filled his nostrils.

That alone just about made his decision.

"I think I'll pass, thanks for the tip," Link muttered, making his way to leave, before he stopped, "Hey, you wouldn't happen to know how to get to Goron City, would you?"

"Afraid I don't," Nell replied, shaking his head, "But there's a stable just up the road. One of them might be able to point you in the right direction."

"Thanks," Link said, before he threw himself onto Epona, thoughts of the Princess swarming his head. Then, an after thought, "You wouldn't know where the Spring of Power is, would you?"

"The what?" Nell shook his head, "Can't say I've heard of it."

"Thanks anyway."

"Hey, I didn't catch your name!" Nell called after him, and Link looked back, watching as the man in a soldier's uniform cowered under his gaze.

"Good," he whispered, before he spurred Epona onwards towards the north.

True to Nell's word, the stable was just over the top of the hill, at a crossroads between two roads. He dismounted, handing off his reins to a stable boy before making his way up to the counter. The stable master looked him up and down, with a cautious look in his eye.

"How can I help you?"

"I'm looking for Goron City," Link said lowly, under his breath, "Can you point me in the right direction?"

The stable master had the audacity to laugh, "Oh, you made the wrong turn too, I reckon? We get quite a few lost travellers here thinking they were making their way to Goron City. I wonder if the city gets any travellers looking for Akkala and wondering why their clothing is on fire."

"Directions…" Link pressed, growing impatient, and the stable master sighed.

"No one thinks my jokes are funny," the stable master grumbled, "You'll wanna go back out on the path from which you came. Keep your eyes open, there will be a signpost and a path forking to the right that will lead you to Goron City. But that's a long way, and night is falling quicker these days. We've got a soft bed available for the night if you're interested."

"I'll take my chances," Link muttered under his breath, not missing how the stable master's face fell at the lost business opportunity, "You wouldn't know where the Spring of Power is, would you?"

"It's just up the road there, to the path on the right here," the stable master said with a shaky finger, "Just beyond the Shadow Pass, though I daresay, be careful: some of those Guardians have made their home just beyond the entrance to it."

Of course they had.

Link made his way back over to the stable boy – Epona was happily lapping up water in one of the troughs. He sighed – she had been travelling for a long while. Perhaps they would rest for an hour or so before making their way on the road again.

He made his way over to a large tree, with an expansive canopy of leaves over it. The ground was littered with them – winter was certainly on its way by the looks of it. He sat down, resting his back against the trunk and leaning his head back. Perhaps a short nap wouldn't be a bad idea.

The stable was relatively busy; Link wasn't the only one that had decided to rest outside. This would be the first stop heading into the region, as well as the last stop heading out.

He did well to drown out the sounds to a dull roar, however, one shrill voice carried over in particular.

"Did you hear about the tech lab up the hill? All of a sudden one day, the massive furnace was filled with this raging _blue_ fire. I mean – I had never seen anything like it!"

Tech lab? Blue fire? Those words rang through Link's mind, and his fingers instinctually reached towards his slate. There was another one of those tech labs here.

His brow furrowed, thinking back to that day in Hateno. The girl had the ability to fix his Sheikah Slate – though it seemed to work perfectly fine. Impa had mentioned restoring it would bring back some portraits the Princess had taken. With the portraits could come his memory, but like a fool and a coward, he had ran off – his fear of Guardians getting the best of him. He hadn't any plans to go back to Hateno, but perhaps the tech lab here in Akkala would have the capabilities to repair his slate.

And by the sounds of it, he wouldn't need to go off in search of some ancient fire.

He stood up, following the sounds of the voice. It was a Hylian woman, speaking in what she probably thought was hushed tones. Yet, he noted dryly, it was clear that the entire stable could listen in on her conversation.

"Excuse me," Link approached the woman, "Did you mention something about a tech lab?"

The woman turned to him, an annoyed expression on her face, before she met his eyes. Instantly, any annoyance melted away as she looked him up and down.

"Oh," the woman's eyes fluttered, and Link held back a gag, "and who might you be?"

He really didn't want people to know who he was.

"Nell," Link replied, the name sounding forced and foreign on his tongue, "My name is Nell. Is there a tech lab in this region?"

"Sure is!" The woman replied, grasping his bicep and pulling him out from the canopy of trees. Link fought the urge to shove her away. She leaned in slightly as she pointed a delicate finger north, "Just up there, see that lighthouse? Someone turned it into an ancient tech lab some years ago. The old lighthouse was long abandoned, since the Age of Burning Fields."

"Who runs it?"

"I've never been up there, but those who have say its an old Sheikah man with his wife, running experiments all day long. Say, if you're not busy, I know a place down by the Akkala Sea if you wanted –"

"Thanks for the tip," Link yanked his arm out of her grip, running down the hillside, his mind whirling. He was wasting time, he knew. But he reasoned if the tech lab up the hill could enhance his Sheikah Slate, maybe – just maybe – it could shave off some time in the long run for him to save the Princess.

He would be all that much closer to recovering his memory.

He mounted Epona, racing away from the stable in a flash. Storm clouds brewed overhead, the clouds threatening to open. Link spurred Epona onwards, her gait lengthening into a fierce gallop as Link travelled north through the region.

Akkala was expansive, going onward for as far as the eye could see. The deeper he travelled, the more richly the colors around him bled. In the shadow of Death Mountain to the west, Akkala brilliantly shined on her own.

Link kept his eyes focused on the scenery around him, desperate for even the smallest clue that would lead him to remember something about his past. Yet, like most things, the landscape only whirled past him in a blur, with not even a faint scent on the wind to remind him of what once was.

By the time he made it through the Shadow Pass, Link could see another stable just up ahead. However, he found that he need not ask for directions again: for just in sight, just up the hill, just at the peak of northern Akkala was, without a doubt, the ancient tech lab the woman had spoken of, with wispy tendrils of smoke dancing out of the chimney top.

He raced up the hill, spurring Epona on just a little bit further. He knew he was pushing the beast: she had travelled nearly nonstop since they left Zora's Domain, and he knew she deserved a break. He wasn't a monster, after all. Thunder rolled overhead, and he felt the hairs on his arms stand up. He should have stopped back at the last stable to wait out the storm. He was so close, though. Just a little bit further…

The sound of metal grinding against itself made Link's blood run cold. He shook his head; he must have been imagining things. He must have: for the circumstances were all too similar: visiting an ancient tech lab, the thunder rolling overhead, and locking his eyes with a bright blue eye of plasma, swirling as its body shone a malicious magenta.

It wasn't real, it wasn't real, it _wasn't real_ –

The Guardian fired its laser, and had Epona been any slower, he would have taken the brunt of that attack. The laser shot just behind him, hitting a tree, and lighting it ablaze. Link looked back, the fire that had erupted dancing off of his eyes. He hadn't been imaging things.

He smacked Epona's flank, hearing her whinny as he jumped from her saddle. Epona ran off – leaving her master behind, but that was okay: at least now, she was safe. He could feel the pinprick of the laser on his back, and by the sounds the mechanical defender was making, his time had all but run out. He dove to the side, behind a boulder next to the blazing tree, and gasped as chunks of the rock blew apart, scraping at his arms and legs.

He had only beaten these things once before: at least, once in this life. That one, freak encounter, he had to admit, he had probably only beaten it due to sheer, dumb luck.

Peaking over the boulder, through the blur of his vision waxing and waning, Link saw the Guardian, its eye swiveling frantically, searching for him – tracking him. However, much to Link's relief, this Guardian was plastered into the ground, rendered immobile unlike those Goddess damned flying monstrosities over by the Citadel.

It was bad enough with them lodged in the ground, but some genius had thought it would be a good idea to make them fly?

Link reached behind him, gripping his small silver shield he had gotten while he was in the Domain. His journey so far, however short it had been, had proven to him that these Guardians were everywhere, and he needed to face them. It was clear that in the hundred years since the fall of the kingdom, the surviving citizens had adapted to avoiding the beasts rather than trying to face them head on. Perhaps that was smart, for their survival. They could learn to adapt and live away from them.

Link however, couldn't let them stay in his way.

His Windcleaver, as magnificent as a blade as it had been so far, was on its last legs. The blade wobbled in the hilt, and Link knew that any moment now, it would shatter much like his shit sword had. He supposed he could have had some pride in caring for his weaponry, but things were rough enough for him as it was. Trying to use this blade against the Guardian now would end in catastrophe for him. He knew he was going to have to take a gamble on deflecting the Guardian's laser yet again.

He waited for the Guardian's laser to detonate before he dove out from behind the boulder. He steeled himself, feeling his blood rushing in his ears as a cold sense of panic rose from his stomach. He knew how idiotic this was. One wrong move and he would be dead, and where would that leave him?

Exactly where he was one hundred years prior.

The Guardian's laser sped up, and Link could feel the air around him heat up as cold droplets of rain began to drizzle down from the heavens. His limbs shook against his will, every muscle shuddering in anticipation. Link gathered his courage, his eyes widening as Link could see the laser gear up, before shooting out, blinding and fiery and hot.

Link's eyes snapped closed upon impact, feeling the blazes licking fiery tendrils up and down his arms from behind the shield. The silver shield instantly heat up, and through his gloves, he could feet the metal burning. He held his ground, his toes digging deep into the ground through his steel-toed boots, and he pushed back, sending the laser back, back, back, into the eye of the Guardian.

The Guardian detonated, raining mechanical bits all around him. Link watched, stunned into silence, as the blue eye dimmed, followed by the wicked magenta surrounding it, before with one last shudder, the Guardian died.

He stood there, breathing hard, daring the Guardian to come back to life as smoke drafted up from the beast. Only after a few long minutes, and after Link was positive that the Guardian was _dead,_ did he lower his shield.

But now, he wasn't alone.

"You there," came a shrill, gravely old voice, "Look at what you've done!"

Link looked up the hill to find a small, ancient looking Sheikah man hobbling down the hillside. His angry eyes were hidden behind large goggles, which did nothing to hold back the wild mane of white hair he sported. He shook a frail, withered finger in the air. Link suddenly felt the urge to snap it off.

You've destroyed my test subject!" The Sheikah continued, " It took me weeks to immobilize that Guardian for future use. How will I ever –"

He stopped, his body going rigid, as Link turned to face him. Though his eyes were hidden behind his goggles, his eyebrows arched high, his mouth going slack. Link was beginning to understand this reaction. It was the same one he had gotten from that scientist in Hateno and from the King of the Zora. This man had known him one hundred years ago.

"A few weeks back, those towers had risen from the ground," his frail, withered finger pointed vaguely in the direction of the Citadel, "and the shrines began to glow. We had been preparing for this moment for decades. We knew what it meant. The Hero had finally awakened. And yet still, seeing you here now… it's like…"

"Seeing a ghost?" Link said, dryly.

"How can I know it's really you?" The Sheikah demanded, his voice now sharp and firm, "How can I determine with full certainty whether or not you are the true Hero? Ganon is cunning – this could be another one of his tricks."

"You knew me one hundred years ago," Link muttered, "I'd imagine that I haven't changed much since you last saw me."

"Since I last saw you…" the Sheikah breathed, before he gasped, "I know how to confirm your identity. Come with me."

He waited not for Link's answer before he began to hobble back up the hillside. The Sheikah Slate weighed heavily on Link's hip, a sort of reminder as to why he was here.

He needed to get the slate restored.

Thus, Link followed the eccentric old Sheikah up the hillside to the ancient tech lab. This tech lab, much like the one in Hateno, was precariously built, renovated from the ruined remains of a lighthouse. A Guardian hung from its roof – _dead,_ Link realized with a release of his breath, and it was with an absolute horror that he discovered the multiple littered carcasses of those mechanical beasts strewn around the tech lab.

He had mentioned the Guardian down the hill had been a test subject – purposely immobilized and sunken into the ground for future use. It did not escape him that the rest of these Guardians were in a similar state. What was this tech lab using them for?

The Sheikah man opened the door to the tech lab with a grand bravado. Link stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. The tech lab on the inside was much better put together than the outside – and much more organized than its sister lab in Hateno. A spiral staircase flew up the perimeter of the lab, and in the center of the room, Link noticed with a sharp intake of breath two glowing blue eyes staring at him.

His heart pounded and his breath caught in his throat, but it wasn't right to be a Guardian. Guardians had one eye – this had two.

The Sheikah man turned around, clasping his hands together, "I will never forget that fateful day when you fell in battle. I had helped place you in the Shrine of Resurrection. Your body was littered in laser wounds from the Guardians. If you can show me the wounds your body suffered a hundred years ago, I can confidently ascertain that you are truly Link."

Link paused, eyeing the old man before he rolled up the sleeve to his tunic, where a long, raised scar trailed across his forearm, "Does this prove who I am?"

The Sheikah man pondered, leaning close to the flesh, his fingers ghosting along the scar, "Ah yes… just as I remember," he looked up then, his eyes lingering around Link's torso, "You should also have a scar from the right side of your abdomen to just the bottom of your left rib.

Link paused, his eyes growing wide, "I do."

"Take it off."

"What?"

"I need to see it," the Sheikah man said, "Ganon is smart – but not smart enough to plot the exact placement of all of your wounds. This could be some scheme by him to fabricate a fake Hero to try and trick us, but if you have that wound, I'll know it's really you."

This crazy old man was even more paranoid that Link was. He supposed that one hundred years of waiting would do that to a man. Link sighed, condemned to his fate. He reached up to lift his baldric off his shoulders – his sword and quiver following – before gently placing them on the ground. He peeled off his blue tunic, followed by his shirt, and felt absurdly naked in front of the scientist, who peered at his scars littered across his chest like he was some ancient relic himself.

"Yes…" he muttered to himself, his lenses swirling around his goggles as they sharpened and focused, "Yes, the number of scars on your body… just as I remember. Most seem to have healed, but they do line up with the scars I know you got during the Great Calamity one hundred years ago. Yes, I acknowledge you as the real Link. So let us begin again."

"Are you the owner of this lab?" Link asked, hastily throwing his clothes back on.

"Yes, I am Dr. Robbie, the lead Guardian researcher and director of the Akkala Ancient Tech Lab. In any case, I am really impressed that you made it all the way out to this rather remote location. Did you, perchance, meet Dr. Purah and borrow her power?"

"That's what I'm here for," Link replied, holding out the Sheikah Slate, "Something… happened, while I was there, and needless to say, I wasn't able to get the upgrade to the Sheikah Slate. When I heard there was a lab in this region, I came here, hoping you could fix it."

"No, no, I couldn't possibly," Robbie shooed him away, pacing towards the other side of the tech lab, "That's Dr. Purah's specialization. You'll have to go back to her to get it upgraded."

Ah yes – it would seem that this man was useless.

"But let's return to the subject at hand," Robbie said, "I lead the research in Guardians – not only to understand how they function, but also to understand how they can be defeated."

Perhaps he _wasn't_ as useless as he looked.

"You've figured out how to defeat them?" Link asked, his eyes widening.

"Yes! It's been our life long goal ever since the Princess left us to contain the Calamity. We have worked ourselves to the bone conducting our research. For a time, I feared I'd pass before we could prevail. However, you managed to awaken before this old sack of flesh gave out. I have perfected what I like to call ancient soldier gear. Not only are they especially effective at defending against Guardian attacks, but I have created _weapons_ which are especially deadly against them."

"Weapons?" Link's ears instantly perked up.

"Yes," Robbie affirmed, "and I want to provide you these."

Robbie made a beeline for one of his worktables, where rows upon rows of glowing blue weapons lay. He picked up a quiver of blue arrows.

"These ancient arrows were made specifically for use against Guardians," Robbie said, proudly, "You hit them right in the eye with one of these, and _bam!_ They're done for!"

Link's eyes widened. Though there were only three, suddenly facing the Guardians no longer filled him with terror. Indeed, if these could really kill them in one hit, he didn't have anything to fear anymore.

Oh, how the tables had turned.

For the first time since he had awoken, he felt a new emotion hit him: gratitude. Though the Sheikah was unable to fix his Sheikah Slate, the trip to the tech lab had not been a waste of time, "Thank you," Link whispered, shifting his baldric to reach his quiver.

"Make sure you pick up broken pieces from the Guardians after you kill them," Robbie said, as Link put the arrows away, "If you bring them back to me, I can use them to make more, and –"

He stopped abruptly, his eyebrows shifting high on his forehead. His face turned pale white, and Link followed his gaze.

His eyes were locked on Link's Windcleaver.

"Where…" Robbie's voice was suddenly low, as though someone would be able to hear them, "Where did you get that?"

Link unsheathed the Windcleaver, and it did not go unnoticed that Robbie visibly flinched, "I got it off some thug that tried to kill me."

"You would do well not to be seen with one of those blades," Robbie whispered, his voice dark and jagged, "It would give people the wrong idea."

"And what idea is that?" Link asked, his gaze sharp towards the man. He could see the man calculating his next choice of words.

Instead of answering his question, Robbie strutted back towards his worktable, picking up a long blue blade and a corresponding scabbard, "I want you to have this," he began, holding out the blade, "It's a prototype for one of my ancient swords. Though the design hasn't been perfected yet, it does deal quite a bit of damage against Guardians – as well as other monsters."

Link took the blade in his hand, testing out its weight. It was a well-crafted sword he had to admit. It certainly rivaled his Windcleaver in its prime.

"That blade there represents the clan that tried to kill the Princess under your protection," Robbie said, slowly, "And it represents the terror that has reigned over this land for one hundred years. It's best not to be seen with it."

Link looked back and forth between the two blades, though from a logical perspective, his decision was already made. His Windcleaver was in much worse shape: just the right hit at the right angle and he knew that the blade would shatter before his very eyes and where would that leave him? He nodded, sheathing the ancient blade while handing over the Windcleaver.

"You mentioned the Princess," Link muttered, "Which reminds me. As I came into this region, I recalled the Spring of Power. Did the Princess ever travel there?"

"Not only did she travel there, but you accompanied her," Robbie exclaimed, the mood shifted from thick and tense to upbeat quite suddenly. Link squinted his eyes, "The Spring of Power is not far from here, just to the southwest, right at the foot of Death Mountain. Once you reach the stable, head into the valley and you'll reach it in no time. Perhaps visiting there will jog your memory."

"Thanks for the directions," Link said, turning on his heel and striding out.

"Link," Robbie called after him, pushing open the door to see Link already atop his horse, "Be careful out there. There's a lot of forces out there that wish to see you and the Princess dead. Don't let that happen. Don't stop until you've saved the Princess."

Link nodded once, before kicking Epona into a slight canter and heading down the hillside.

Once he was out of sight, Robbie tensed, the blade in his hands suddenly heavy. He looked down, feeling the weight of all the lives that blade took at the hands of Ganon. His eyes steeled and his grip tightened. Without another thought, he strode around back, to where the hill suddenly dropped off into the North Akkala Sea.

Without hesitating, Robbie threw the blade off the side of the cliff, watching as it grew smaller and smaller, until it disappeared into the abyss forever.

* * *

The Spring of Power was alive with the Princess.

He had soared down from the northern lip on his paraglider, keeping an eye on the three Guardians that soared above the entrance to the spring. So far, they hadn't seen him, and while it was possible to make his way in without facing them, there was only one way out of the spring.

He landed on the ancient stonework, the air around him stilling as the rushing from the waterfalls filled his ears. Ahead of him was a pool of glistening water, just before a Goddess Statue. This statue, much like the one in the Temple of Time, stared down at him benevolently with her empty stare.

He traced his fingertips along the walls, stepped knee deep into the crystalline waters, and brought his hand up towards the Goddess Statue, willing any sort of memory to rush back to him.

Here in the spring, Link was awash in a heavy blanket of nostalgia, yet no memories came to him immediately. He could practically hear the Princess in this ancient, celestial place, her voice just below the murmur of the water bubbling in the spring. As with most things, the memories were just beyond his grasp, and the harder he fought to grasp them, the further out of his reach they went.

Just over the rush of the waterfalls, he could hear a girl crying; just beyond the shadows of the dusk, he could see the flickers of a campfire.

Just beyond the cold, monotonous stonework were ten fireflies, doing well to steer clear of the spring altogether, in respect of their Goddess.

He settled to make camp for the night and to clear his mind. The fire crackled, washing the spring alight in flickering reds and oranges. By now, evening had settled over deep Akkala, with the moon painting the region in soft silver. He sighed, leaning back against the wall of the spring, shuttering his eyes.

_He opens his eyes and he sees her then: bright eyed from crying, and sitting far closer to him than should be proper._

_"Can I tell you something, Link?"_

_The way she speaks these words sounds ominous, foreboding, and they hold a hint of despair._

_"Anything," Link murmurs, the flames dance off of his icy blue eyes._

_"Ever since that dream," the Princess says, each word growing more and more anxious, "I've had this horrible feeling."_

_"Horrible how?" Link asks, his eyes flickering out towards the Goddess statue. Her Grace smiles back blankly as she always does._

_"It's going to sound ridiculous," the Princess hisses, the corners of her lips turning upwards in what could faintly be reminiscent of a smile, "I wouldn't blame you if you wouldn't believe me… but right now… I can't shake this strange and terrible certainty that something awful is about to happen."_

_"Awful how?" Link says, slowly, carefully._

_"You said it yourself," the Princess says, her tone empty, "Ganon could return tomorrow, and that's just how this feels. I get the feeling that Ganon is going to return sooner than we have all anticipated. I think it's only a matter of time."_

_"Zelda," Link whispers, scooting even closer to her. Their knees are touching ever so slightly, "It was just a dream. There's no way that it could have been tied to the fate of the world."_

_"Mother said that she could sometimes convene with the Goddess Hylia," Zelda says, absentmindedly playing with a strand of hair, "It was never on her terms, of course, and it was usually just a one sided conversation. But I have to wonder if this was a warning from the Goddess herself."_

_"You're tired," Link offers, "and you've barely eaten since dawn this morning. I think you should eat some more, and then get some sleep. You'll feel better in the morning."_

_"Of course you wouldn't believe me," Zelda says, bitterly, turning away from him and crawling towards her bedroll, "Why should you? Coming from Hyrule's Failure of a Princess."_

_"I do believe you," Link says, scooting closer to her once again. Zelda looks up at him again, this time with an emotion in her eyes that Link can't place. There is surprise there, but something more, "I believe that you had this dream. But there's absolutely no use worrying about something that is completely out of your control. All you need to worry about is what you can control in this moment."_

_"What I can control in this moment?" Zelda echoes, slowly, her eyes meeting his, a clear question in her eyes._

_"Yes," Link says, his mouth suddenly dry, as they both stare at each other, the flames licking shadows up and down their bodies._

_And Zelda is getting closer, and closer to him…_

Link recoiled, the memory ending abruptly as his hand flied to his lips. She had tried to kiss him. There was a foreign feeling settling in his chest, a certain yearning present that had been absent before. Where before he had felt the obligational duty to save her, where the only way to recover his memories _was_ to save her, now he felt a new pull towards the castle: one that twisted in his gut and spurred him into action.

So then why did the sound of her voice still fill him with so much rage?

The dichotomy of it was enough to make his head spin.

Link could practically feel her lips on his, soft and delicate, like a Silent Princess.

Delicate enough to be crushed under his fingertips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. I'm back with another chapter! A couple things to mention before moving forward:
> 
> Updates are no longer weekly, and for that I'm sorry. Covid-19 has turned my life upside down, and I'm now back on the job search. I'm thinking updates will reasonably happen once a month, for this fic. I'll also be working on some one-shots in the mean time. Also, HELLO AGE OF CALAMITY? We are all about to lose our minds.
> 
> Anyways…
> 
> I really do enjoy this chapter. I went back and forth on whether I wanted Link to go into Akkala, and I decided I would be doing Robbie a disservice if I didn't. I was talking with Bhujerban yesterday, and I came across a realization that if Robbie were voice acted, he would sound like Bernie Sanders. I don't make the rules.
> 
> Next chapter we head into Goron City! The update will probably happen after the US election (not to get political, but please vote). Updates will fluctuate in direct correlation with the control I have over my life. Right now, I am Stu Pickles making chocolate pudding at 3 in the morning.
> 
> Let me know your thoughts on this chapter! Follow me on tumblr, and I'll see you next chapter!


	8. Chapter 8

Link sighed, as he tucked his frayed hair back underneath his bandana. In the blistering, fiery Eldin heat, the strands of his hair ignited in the open air, as the flames trailed closer and closer to his scalp. The bandana hardly helped – and the rest of the work was done by the horrifically weak fiery elixirs he had made a few days past before his accidental venture into Akkala.

He was almost missing the cool breezes from Akkala in the midst of this heat.

Almost.

Following his excursion into the Spring of Power, Link had stumbled out into the Ordorac Quarry, his mind buzzing and his vision swimming with visions of the Princess. His lips tingled, the ghost of her lips still present as he dove out into the cool autumnal evening. The memory of her had felt so real, and the sensations were still fresh on his mind. The only thing that had shocked him out of his stupor was the incessant beeping and whirling of a guardian overhead – three, in fact. Pure instinct alone was the only thing that had him diving out of the way just as a blazing hot blast shot at where he had been standing not a second prior.

It was those Goddess-damned _flying_ Guardians. How could he have forgotten?

Yet, with the help of the ancient arrows Robbie had given him, Link found that it was simple enough to take down the flying monstrosities. He was out of there before he knew it; his pack jingling with the excavated guardian parts he had collected from their smoking corpses.

Then, a quick stop to fetch Epona, and Link was off – back towards the south, back towards the magnificent citadel, and off towards the one place that could literally kill him with how hot it was.

Joy.

He leapt from the Eldin Tower and felt his skin begin to burn from the inside out. Each breath was accompanied by the scorch in the air, like fire trailing down his lungs, each breath more difficult than the last. The scenery was much the same: orange and red rock for miles, gems glistening in the harsh sunlight, and natural hot springs popping up every now and then.

It wasn't until he was already upon it that he realized he had company.

…Joy.

It looked to be a mine, with Goron folk chiseling away at gemstones and luminous stones alike. Scaffolding towered above him, reaching upwards hundreds of feet. Tiny little rock creatures rolled around the site, with no care as to whether they hit something or some _one._

The sun was beginning to set, and Link paused, glancing around. There was one lone Hylian at the mine, who had made their camp next to a fire right next to the curdling lava. Why a fire was necessary in this kind of climate, Link had no idea. And yet still, the fire-happy Hylian had decided this would be a good enough place to stop for camp.

While Link had no desire to sit next to the other Hylian, something caught his eye and he stepped forward. The man was wearing a metal plated armor set, and seemed unaffected by the heat around him. In fact, it looked as though he were enjoying the heat from the fire.

Against his better judgment, Link sat across from him.

"Oh, Din's fire, it hurts to look at you," the Hylian mumbled, reaching back into his pack before offering a corked bottle, "Take it, my friend. You look like you need it much more than I do."

Link took the bottle, swirling the contents around. The fireproof elixir in this bottle had the viscosity of syrup, and was more potent than the elixirs he had come up with back at the last stable. He mumbled out a 'thanks', before unstopping the cork and tipping it back, letting the thick liquid slide down his throat.

The effect was instantaneous. His skin was awash in relief, and for the first time since he entered the inhospitable region, Link felt it safe to take his bandana off.

…and off with it, came a burnt chunk of his hair.

… _Joy._

The man inclined his head towards the discarded bandana, a knowing look on his face as he nodded solemnly, "Happened to me on my way into Eldin. They say to come prepared, but I don't think anyone realizes just how hot it is here until they experience it for themselves. Name's Kima, by the way."

Link really didn't give a damn as to who he was. He grunted in reply, pulling out the remains of a fireproof lizard and some monster parts, as well as his empty bottles. Perhaps if he kept to himself, the man would mind his own business as well. Link counted out the parts, estimating that he had enough for two – maybe three – bottles. It would probably be enough to get him into Goron City.

If not… well, he would just have to get used to the idea of burning alive.

"I wish I had collected more of those lizards back up in the city," Kima said, breaking the silence. So much for that. "My kid absolutely loves lizards – he's got an entire collection."

"You let your kid collect lizards?" The words stumbled out of his mouth before Link could stop them. Kima brushed it off, a small smile setting on his face.

"You gotta find joy in this world wherever you can," Kima replied. "After his mother died, the only thing that made my son happy were the lizards he collected outside. If it helps him cope, who am I to object?"

"I guess," Link said, before shifting his glance towards the thick, metal plate armor Kima was wearing. Link gestured towards the half empty bottle in his hand. "You said you don't need this. I don't suppose that armor has anything to do with it, does it?"

"Keen eye, you got there," Kima said, the corners of his eyes crinkling, "Yeah, I got this fireproof armor up in the city – sort of a last minute souvenir before I headed back down south. I plan on coming back, and bringing my son next time. I want him to see the world like I have."

"And maybe then he can collect his own lizards for his collection," Link said, dryly.

"Yeah," Kima's eyes trailed down, before he let out a hum, "Unless…"

His eyes trailed towards Link, his mind calculating, "How about I make you a deal: one that could benefit both of us, right now?"

"Sorry, but I'm not interested," Link said, shifting his gaze back towards the fire. The last thing he wanted was to connect himself to any of the Hylians or other people in the area. It was bad enough that he had sat down next to the man. He looked around. Maybe he would keep going, and find another place to settle down for camp.

"You need this armor far more than I do, and by the look of all the monster parts you've got, I'd peg you as the adventuring type."

The armor? "You want to give me your armor?" Link asked, his eyebrows furrowing. "What's the catch?"

"The catch is, I'll give you my armor, if you can find me ten fireproof lizards. With this armor, you'll have no more need of these fireproof elixirs, and I won't go back to my son empty handed. What do you say?"

Glancing around, Link could already see the scurrying shadows of those lizards, scampering from under a rock to the shadows of the mine in the blink of an eye.

It would be an easy enough task, he supposed: one which the prize far outweighed the price of the trade. With ten lizards in hand, he would get himself the armor and helmet to combat the blistering heat of the region.

Link grinned, grabbing his burnt bandana from the ground and tying it around his head, "I'd say I'm off to find me some fireproof lizards."

Perhaps there was some technique to be had in catching those damn lizards.

While the fireproof lizards had not been difficult to find, the heat from the flowing rivers of lava slowed Link down considerably. More than once, he came up too quickly on a lizard, stumbling behind it fruitlessly as the lizard scurried into a crevice, much too small for Link to reach.

"At this rate, that kid is gonna be working till morning," a Goron miner – Grayson –said, before plopping down on the hard, rocky ground for sleep.

Link chose to ignore that remark.

Indeed, it was just a little bit after midnight, with the full, cerulean blue moon low in the sky when Link came back to the campfire. In his hands, he held the ten squirming lizards, all of which danced through his fingertips.

"Got all ten, here," Link said, plopping down next to Kima, who was getting ready to turn in for the night. Link pulled a knife out from his hip, "How many do you want to keep alive?"

"All of them," Kima replied, grasping all ten lizards before stuffing the squirming reptiles into his pack. In response to Link's bewildered stare, he simply said, "My son _loves_ lizards."

Link twiddled his thumbs, waiting as Kima unbuckled his armor from around his waist, before pulling it up over his shoulders. It was bizarre that he decided to take it off with the helmet still on, since they were part of a match set, but Link wasn't about to reprimand the way the man took off his armor.

Kima passed it over to him, his eyes shining in the fire light through the thick, metal helmet he still donned, "Well, a deal's a deal. You are now the proud, new owner of fireproof armor!"

Link took the armor, but his eyes trailed on the helmet, waiting for the second piece.

…

…

…

Kima looked back at him, "Something the matter, buddy?"

"What about the helmet?" Link asked, gesturing towards the piece.

"My helmet?" Kima's hands grasped either side of the metal cage, "Sorry, but that wasn't part of the deal. It's too expensive for that. You can buy your own in Goron City."

Kima flopped onto his bedroll, his head clanging against the metal as he lied down, "Well, goodnight!"

Link sat there, staring off into the fire, a similar kindling burning within him as Kima's breath evened out. The Gorons in the mines began to settle down for rest. The moon set below the mountains, disappearing from sight. The only light within the vicinity was a soft glow from the lava, slowly raging its way across Eldin, and the flickering flames of the dying fire, withering down to mere embers.

And from deep within Link, a certain anger began to boil.

He wasn't used to being ripped off like that. A deal was a deal, and that man broke it, without a second thought.

Link looked around – there was not a soul awake at the Southern Mine camp, by the looks of it. Boulders and pebbles slept soundly, the rumble of their snores gently shaking the sides of the mountain, like a soothing earthquake.

And there, just off into the shadows of the mine, was the man who had gone against his word.

The man who had lied. The man who had ripped him off.

Link saw red.

In the darkness of night, with not a soul awake to witness it, Link's dagger slipped effortlessly into the soft flesh of the man's throat. Any scream on the tip of the man's lips was silenced, his eyes bolting wide in sudden and intense betrayal. Link grinned, ripping the helmet off of the man's shoulders before driving his dagger up and out through the man's chin.

Link's chest swelled with excitement, watching as Kima's eyes glassed over in perfect death. Link was panting; his breathing laborious as he knelt over the man. His eyes shone wickedly, reflecting the blistering, boiling lava.

It had been so easy. He had been able to silence the man so effortlessly. It came so naturally to him.

There was part of him that _enjoyed_ it.

Wait… what?

Like a waterfall crashing over him, his senses came back, and he whipped his head towards the mines. The rocks snored gently beneath the dark sky. Here he was, knelt over the cooling body of the man he had just killed, not even one hundred feet away from the mine. He wasn't alone.

It was time for Link to get out of here.

Gingerly – stealthily – quietly – Link heaved the man off towards the edge of the cliff, sending him rolling down to where a pool of lava lay, silently beckoning him. The sounds of his body rolling down the cliff were not unusual – seismic activity around Death Mountain constantly sent boulders tumbling down the hillside.

No one would think any differently.

With the armor heaved over his shoulders and the helmet tucked under his arm, Link began to make his way up the treacherous slopes of the mountain, taking care to avoid the boulders and pebbles strewn about the campsite. Indeed, the last thing he needed was one of those glorified rocks waking and wondering where the other lone Hylian at their camp went.

By morning, any trace of either Hylian would be gone, and the Gorons would be none the wiser.

Link peered inside the helmet, noticing a wet, red stain on the inside of the metal. He sighed, swerving off towards the Goron hot springs. In retrospect, he hadn't exactly had the intention of killing Kima in exchange for his helmet, and in retrospect, he hadn't exactly been careful about keeping the man's blood off of the helmet.

But a deal was a deal. And now the deal breaker was dead.

And well, it was nothing a little water couldn't fix.

At the hot springs, Link submerged the helmet, washing away the crusted blood around his fingers. In fact, the man's blood trailed up his forearms, staining his skin a dark burgundy. He didn't recall the man's death being so messy. In fact, he remembered killing the man with a deadly precision. How was there so much blood?

In the end, Link opted to bathe, taking zero chances about any blood on his person. Maybe the man's death had been bloodier than he remembered. So what? Hylians have a lot of blood. It wasn't his fault that the man's blood got everywhere. It didn't matter though. Not anymore. The man was dead, the helmet was retrieved, and no one was the wiser. Case closed. The end.

He saw a child in his mind's eye – one that was faceless, nameless, but held ten, squirming lizards in his chubby hands. He left that child to be orphaned, first without a mother and now without his father. He knew it was wrong for him to have killed the man; he knew it rationally and resolutely. And yet still: he found some inner peace, knowing that there was one less bad person walking the earth.

He left that kid to be an orphan, but he knew it was all for the best: for now, the kid could learn to fend for himself, much like Link had when he had woken from that damned shrine. Now, that kid wouldn't grow up with a lousy man for a father. Now, the kid could fetch his own lizards: carve his own path through the mountain.

Indeed: it was for the best.

Link made it into Goron City just after dawn. Lava flowed throughout the city, providing a natural light source to the city throughout its deadly rivers. Death Mountain loomed overhead, its molten lava oozing down the mountainside, illuminating the early morning sky a dull orange.

The citizens of Goron City were just beginning their day, boulders and pebbles alike stretching and moaning with the dawn of the day. Children tumbled to school, brothers stumbled to work.

And there: looming above the city like a warning cloud, moving just along the crust of the volcano, was the Divine Beast Vah Rudania, no doubt. She burned magenta against the orange backdrop of the mountain, its claws crunching and digging into the outer layers. Indeed, it was a constant reminder of why Link was here.

It was time to free the cursed beast.

Now, he needed to find the Goron boss.

He made his way up through the burning city. He followed the sounds of the people, almost being run over by a massive, glorified rock as he rolled his way towards the center of town. There, a crowd was gathered. Though, if Link were completely honest, from behind, it just looked like a bunch of boulders all raising their voices louder than one another, until all that could be heard was a deep bass rumbling the mountain. Link's core shook. As Link approached, he began to pick out what they were saying.

"That last eruption caved in half of the city! What are we gonna do when the lava overflows?"

"Do we have an evacuation plan?"

"What about our mining exports? With the Northern Mine completely abandoned, we are at less than forty percent capabilities!"

"Enough!" A great voice boomed from the center of the rock pile. Link leaned in, poking his head between two Goron brothers to see what must have been the Goron boss. At his full height, he loomed over the rest of the brothers.

The discontent simmered. "Enough," the Goron Boss said, his voice like gravel. "I hear all of your concerns. And trust me when I say that I have a plan to drive off Rudania, so we can get back to our mining operations and get back to business as usual."

"But what about the city? If Death Mountain blows one more time, it could wipe us off the map!"

"Like I said, I have a plan!" The Goron Boss said, "Once Yunobo makes his way back from the Northern Mines –"

A chorus of groans erupted from the crowd of boulders and pebbles, some with expletives.

"– we're going to drive off Rudania, and we won't have anything to worry about!"

"That's what you said last time!"

"Bludo, when is this terror going to end?"

"This time," the Goron boss – Bludo – paused, seeming to choose his own words, "this time, we're going to drive off Vah Rudania for good! With my plan in motion, Rudania will leave Goron City for good! Mark my words!"

The crowd cheered, fists pumping the air and giant hands clapping together, before finally dispersing. Link stood alone in the center of the city, watching Bludo pace, a stream of curses under his breath.

"Damn it!" Bludo finally cursed, convinced he was alone. "That blasted Rudania!"

Link approached the rock, "Is something the matter?"

Bludo whirled on him, and Link staggered, the ground shaking beneath him, "Get lost, kid. This doesn't concern you."

"I would think it does," Link countered, letting the insult slide. "You're having problems with the Divine Beast. I'm here to help."

"You? Here to help?" Bludo asked, before erupting in laughter, "What could a tiny Hylian like you do you help?"

"I can tame the beast," Link pressed on, holding out the Sheikah Slate. "I did the same with Divine Beast Vah Ruta in Zora's Domain. I can put a stop to all this for you."

"Sure you can. Just like I can ride on the back of Dinraal into the sunset," Bludo said, shaking his head, "Listen kid, I don't need another Hylian casualty on my hands. You know how we bury our dead in these parts? We dump them into the lava in the volcano."

Link tried not to think about that too hard.

Instead, he swiped a few times on the slate, bringing up a picture, "You see this here?" Link pointed towards the slate, watching Bludo's eyes widen, "This is Vah Ruta, after I tamed her. See that blue light there?"

"Well I'll be damned," Bludo whispered, reaching out to grasp the slate.

Link pulled it away, before the Goron's giant hands could crush it, "Vah Ruta is no longer terrorizing the Zora. I can do the same for Rudania."

"Can you, now?" Bludo paused, before squinting his eyes, "We haven't had correspondence with the Domain in decades, and I'm supposed to take you at your word? What's in it for you?"

He could have mentioned how it was the only way for him to recover his memories, but that would require going into detail he _really_ didn't want to go into. He could have also mentioned it could help him discover who he truly was, but that would mean he would have to explain the fact that he could barely remember anything from his life before waking in a glittering pool of water (and he _really_ didn't want to try to explain that). He could have mentioned how with every twist and turn, he felt there was another piece of the puzzle he was missing, something always on the tip of his tongue and amongst every shadow, yet just out of reach.

And while it wasn't directly related to the beasts, he could have even lamented on the fact that with every person he had killed since his awakening, he had felt a resurgence of pride at their deaths.

Rather than be convicted for murder, he settled on, "It's the only way to save the Princess."

"You don't mean that fairytale about the Golden Princess from the castle, do you?" Bludo asked, "Cause fairytales don't do a damn thing when you've got some monstrous beast raining havoc on your city."

"Do you want my help or not?"

Bludo cocked his head to the side, studying him. "You know what? What the hell… If you want to die today, then that's your funeral." He pointed up towards the mountain, where the beast was slowly crawling along its gravelly surface. "With Rudania running wild recently, Death Mountain's eruptions have gotten real bad. Do you see Rudania stompin' around up there on the mountain?"

"It's kind of hard not to."

"No shit." Bludo grinned, "That Golden Princess… They say that one hundred years ago, that thing actually used to protect our people from harm. But that was then, and this is now. Now all it does it mess up our mining operations."

"They seemed to be doing fairly well when I came into town."

"You came from down south, right?"

"…Sure."

"No, no, that's the Southern Mines." Bludo said, clutching at his back, "I'm talking about the Northern Mines, pay attention! We're all suffering because it's stopping us from doing business."

"Okay."

"And not only that, but it's destroying our city," Bludo said. "We've been holding up multiple families in residences while we excavate the old caves, but we just can't keep up. We get one cave dug out and that asshole buries two more. I can't tell ya how many times we've used the cannon to chase off that fiend, but it always comes back, and it comes back stronger and with more of a vengeance each time."

Suddenly, the Goron boss doubled over. His thick hands clutched at his back, digging dents into the hardened rock. He let out a roar, nearly knocking Link off of his feet.

"Din damn it," Bludo growled. "Where the hell is that kid?"

Link took a step back, keeping clear of the wide, arching steps the Goron was taking, "Is everything alright?"

"Oh it's nothing," Bludo said, glaring off towards the north, "It's just some back pain."

"Just some back pain?" Link asked, dryly.

"Yeah. Now hold up – I didn't catch your name."

Huh. The Goron Boss had no idea who he was. He had assumed that because King Dorephan and Impa and Robbie had recognized him on sight, that perhaps the Goron Boss would recognize him as well. This was a first.

"You don't know who I am?" Link asked, his eyebrow furrowing.

"Should I?" Bludo hissed out, "By the looks of it, you're just some punk ass kid."

"Just a traveler." Link said. He decided to rely on anonymity. It had gotten him this far throughout the rest of Hyrule.

"I see… so then you're just a traveler who happens to know how to beat these beasts. That's awfully convenient…" Bludo mused, "I'd say you could come with me up the mountain to try and beat this beast, but I can't go anywhere until Yunobo…"

"Yunobo?"

"Yeah. Doesn't that name just make you wanna hurt something?" Bludo ground his fist in his hand.

"There's a lot of things that make me wanna hurt something."

"Heh," Link didn't think the Goron Boss was capable of smiling, but it looked like the corners of his lips twitched, "You're not too bad, kid." The frown reappeared. "Yunobo is one of the Goron kids who helps me drive off Rudania. He isn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, but you don't need to be when you're actually just a goddess-damned _hammer,_ if you catch my can really pack a punch."

"Well, where is he?" Link asked, "We'll grab him and go."

"You're really itching to die, ain't ya?" Bludo laughed, "He went to grab some painkillers from the Northern Mine, but he hasn't come back yet. I swear, kids these days, you give them one job, and they disappear for hours, smoking their weird ass plants… Listen, the sooner he gets back, the sooner you can meet your foolish death, so if you wanna drag his sorry ass back here, please, be my guest."

So this was all it took then. Just find some Goron kid hiding out in an abandoned mine, getting higher than the three golden goddesses, and drag him back down to Hyrule, so he could be used as a literal weapon against the beast?

Link sighed, his eyes flickering towards the bridge to the north, "So if I find him and bring him back, you'll help me reach Rudania?"

"You bring that kid back, and we got ourselves a deal."

Link nodded, adjusting his fireproof armor, before making the trek up north.

Behind him, a lizard scurried away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet you thought you'd seen the last of me.
> 
> Nah, I'm here. This fic is still here. And I'm still writing it. Just had a lot going on in the last few months (like dealing with some far right extremists trying to overthrow our democracy). Also, this chapter and next chapter were not properly outlined, thus why I struggled to get them out. I'm still anticipating monthly updates for this fic. (I know this chapter took me 3 months, give a bitch a break!)
> 
> I'll see y'all in a month or so!


End file.
